Overclocking
by EuphoniumGurl0
Summary: Hermione Granger is an Unspeakable specializing in time. After collaborating with co-worker Percy Weasley to decrease the number of casualties from the war, she is in a constant battle against the Keeper of Time, who wishes to restore the original timeline. Her final test involves traveling back to 1979, where her mission is horrifying yet hilariously simple.
1. Prologue: Day -4

**Title**: Overclocking, an experiment in canon AU

**Pairing**: Hermione Granger/Remus Lupin (with various other pairings mentioned)

**Warnings**: A/U (although I do explain why/how eventually), lemons (of various sorts), death (canon and minor made-up characters), rape (mentioned only, involving a minor character), time-travel, fluff, and friendly portrayals of characters the fan fiction community tends to hate (like Ron; I'm sorry, but I _like _him.)

**Summary**: Hermione Granger is an Unspeakable specializing in time. After collaborating with co-worker Percy Weasley to decrease the number of casualties from the war, she is in a constant battle against the Keeper of Time, who wishes to restore the original timeline. Her final test involves traveling back to 1979, where her mission is horrifying yet hilariously simple.

**Author's Note**: Hi and welcome to another of my Harry Potter stories. It's been a long time since I've tackled a project of this caliber, but I was inspired by a particularly good Remus/Hermione story I read. Keep in mind that the time travel has changed certain events of canon (such as the reversal of character deaths, changing when certain things occur, etc.), but it is all explained by the end.

So without further adieu, here is the prologue to Overclocking, an experiment in canon AU.

* * *

**Prologue: Day -4/180**

"Absolutely not," she said without hesitation, ignoring the groans she heard around the room. "I'm twenty-two years old. I'm an Unspeakable at the Ministry of Magic. I'm quite satisfied going into work every morning, taking that same old lift to the Department of Mysteries, and working on... well, that's classified, _obviously_. But the point is that I am _not_ looking for any sort of added excitement or complication in my life, _especially _one that has to do with time travel, _especially _since I've already dealt so much with the subject. Send someone else."

"Miss Granger, you should know the complications that can arise from a shift in the timeline, precisely _because _of your line of work and your 'dealings' with the subject," Professor McGonagall said sternly, the etchings carved into her aging skin pulled taught because of the frown currently plastered across her thin lips.

"Let's talk about it then," Hermione snapped, causing Harry and Ron on either side of her to flinch, curving away from her as if trying to avoid being in the line of fire of a curse they must have thought would come hurling toward her at any moment from the irate Headmistress.

The rest of the room, including the Weasley twins, who normally would have taken the occasion to start a betting pool on the outcome of this altercation, looked unusually somber because of the topic at hand and the statement they all knew was coming.

"Let's talk about the timeline. In fact, let's narrow the scope specifically to the people in this room, the Order of the Phoenix. Let's talk about Fred Weasley, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Lavender Brown, Nymphadora Tonks, and Severus Snape," she challenged, pointing to each person in the room in turn.

"Hermione Granger," Mrs. Weasley reprimanded shrilly, throwing her arm around Fred, who had paled considerably.

She pulled him into her arms as if he was a child, which seemed appropriate considering his current state. He was visibly shaking in her embrace, his girlfriend and twin brother taking on a similar pallor.

The rest of the room temporarily settled into silence, and Hermione felt slightly guilty when she looked around the room again to survey its occupants. Sirius looked unfazed, Lavender looked on the verge of tears, Snape looked at her with a newfound hatred, Tonks looked uncomfortable, and Lupin looked anywhere but at her.

"The girl has a point," Sirius said evenly. "We should all be dead."

There it was – the thing that no one talked about was said, the unspoken agreement to never mention it shattered into a million pieces and filtering through the already thick air to hang over their heads as a grave reminder of the bloody effects of war.

"She's done more than enough," Lupin agreed with a sigh, his eyes fixated on the table, then on his hands, then finally casting a sidelong gaze at Sirius when the darker man clasped his shoulder. "It would be hypocritical to preach the timeline to her when the people most at risk wouldn't even be here were it not for her initial interference."

"Yes," Snape dryly agreed, standing up from the cramped bench where he was seated. "Let Miss Granger play with the timeline at her whim. We're dead, then we're alive, and then we're dead again. We'll be none-the-wiser, and it will be her and Mr. Weasley's burden to bear. This meeting is irrelevant to my interests, so I'm going to return to my work."

Hermione watched Snape glide out the door with a grace she would have assumed impossible for anyone else, given how cramped the room was. She stared at the doorway he'd exited out, feeling less brazen and more shaken than she had seconds ago.

"That's not what we meant," Lupin said quietly. "Your place in this world is guaranteed, and you've already risked your life to bring us into this world as well, without changing the outcome of the war. If you don't want to do it again, it's not unreasonable."

Hermione was grateful that everyone else in the room remained silent, giving her an opportunity to think about the implications that refusing to take this mission would have. She needed the time to think, even though she knew that the consequences were simple. If she didn't go, a third of the occupants of the room, and several others not currently present, would disappear into thin air, and the people whose lives they were a part of would go on living just as they had before, feeling a void but unsure of the reason why.

Hermione sighed, ignoring a myriad of different expressions on the faces of her comrades and searching the eyes of the man across from her, the only person who would meet her gaze at the moment. He looked tired, like she probably did. He had dark, blue, sunken bags underneath his eyes which were especially obvious because of his fair skin, fiery stubbles piercing through his normally shaven face, his sharp eyes already confirming the answers to everything she was about to ask.

"The timeline's going to keep trying to restore itself, isn't it?" she asked him, exhaustion sweeping over her as she locked eyes with her partner.

"Yes," he affirmed, nodding almost imperceptibly.

"And if we refuse to maintain it, they're all going to die again, aren't they?" she asked.

"Yes," he repeated, causing his sister next to him to sniffle as tears welled up in her eyes.

"How long are _they_ going to keep trying to punish us?" she asked vaguely, as several of the other occupants of the room blinked in confusion.

"You remember what Harley said," Percy answered carefully.

"Right," she said, nodding, trying not to think about her own question too much.

"At least you have some concrete truths this time around," he said blandly. "Unlike last time."

"That's true," she agreed, nodding, and sighing. "I'm being unreasonable."

"You are, and you aren't," he said, one corner of his mouth quirking upward.

"Thanks, Perce," she said sarcastically, letting the man across from her take her hand.

"You're quite welcome," he replied smartly, the smile on his face growing.

She sighed dramatically and looked at her old head of house. "Alright. Lay it on me, Professor. What's my mission?"

She heard various sighs of relief, and Harry and Ron both put their arms around her proudly.

_Oh. _So _now _they were going to be protective of her, when moments prior, they were plotting their escape routes.

"You're going back to June of 1979, to the original Order of the Phoenix," Professor McGonagall said, as stiffly as she could, even though a smile threatened to spill onto her lips at the mention of the old Order.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the new leader of the Order, who was looking atypically amused. Her eyes shot toward Sirius, who also seemed to be struggling to contain his laughter. Lupin, to his credit, managed the feat substantially better than his fellow Marauder, although she could still see a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"You'll be arriving at the old headquarters one day before the Potters get back from their honeymoon, and you will stay until December, via an amulet of Mr. Black's, which will also serve as a means for you to gain our trust. During this time, you will be sent on various missions as a member of the Order, but it is vitally important for you to remember your primary purpose," Professor McGonagall said, her voice breaking for a second, as she continued to struggle to maintain her composure. "Do you understand, Miss Granger? You _must _remember your primary purpose."

"Yes, Professor," Hermione answered, furrowing her eyebrows as she waited on her mentor to elaborate. "But what's my primary purpose?"

To her surprise, it was Sirius who answered, simultaneously answering her verbalized question as well as the one she'd been withholding until now, despite the fact that her curiosity and confusion were both mounting. "Your goal, love, will be to make sure James impregnates Lily."

* * *

**Author's Note**: There you have it, the short prologue. Chapter 1 is a bit but not much longer (the bulkier chapters come in a bit) and gives you a bit of background on Hermione's life as an Unspeakable. As the story progresses, more will be revealed, and by the epilogue, all questions about the timeline shift should be answered.


	2. Day -1

**A/N**: Hello, and welcome back to _Overclocking_. In this chapter, you'll _begin _to gain an understanding of Hermione's line of work. The Department of Mysteries plays a large role in this story. Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 1: Day -1/180**

Three days had passed since she'd been given her assignment, and she still felt deeply uncomfortable about it. While everyone else seemed to think it hilarious (and she had to admit that, were she in their shoes, she'd probably be laughing her arse off, too), she wanted to vomit. She'd packed for the long six months ahead, careful to take only things that would not jeopardize the timeline. She'd been allowed a photo of her parents and a photo of herself with the Weasley clan – one that very clearly lacked Harry, whom she was instructed to not mention by full name or lineage. She was also allowed to bring her journals, some books, and a bit of work for the Ministry, but she was not allowed to bring anything that had been signed or written on by anyone.

When she'd asked how much she could tell the Order of the past, interestingly enough, Professor McGonagall had left it to her discretion. She'd assumed, though, that she wasn't allowed to speak of who was alive and who wasn't based on the fact that she'd been instructed to not bring signed paperwork.

It was all a bit convoluted and headache-inducing, and she had a bad feeling about it all. This was exacerbated by the news she subsequently received, which informed that Percy would be accompanying her but would be sent off on an assignment within the first month and would be largely absent during their journey. She understood that the people who had known them in the past had a reason for keeping the details hidden, but it was still quite unsettling, especially since she wasn't sure of whether or not she would be able to preserve the timeline – not when she was preserving a timeline that was trying to change itself back to the way it was before.

"I'm a bit worried, Perce," she admitted immediately, when the elder Weasley popped out of her fireplace and dusted himself off.

"Good evening to you, too, Hermione," he said with a smile.

He walked over and gracefully seated himself next to her on her worn leather sofa. He wrapped his arms around her familiarly and settled his chin on top of her chestnut curls. She scooted into him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"You don't get a 'good evening' when it's almost midnight, and I just saw you a few hours ago," she said, snuggling into him despite her slight annoyance. "And I'm being serious, you know."

He stiffened slightly and let out a pathetic sigh. "I know, Hermione. What we're doing isn't natural, and we're being punished for it. You have every right to be worried. I'm terrified _all _the time."

"Are you?" she asked, doubtfully.

"I am, but I can't exactly show that, can I?" he questioned rhetorically. "My mum would fall to pieces if she knew the sort of danger I was putting myself in, in order to make up for my past mistakes."

"Good thing we couldn't tell any of them even if we wanted to," Hermione mumbled sadly.

"It's the path we chose," Percy said, gripping onto her tighter. "I hadn't believed it possible."

She hadn't either. At one point, anyway. But upon entering the Department of Mysteries, she had quickly learned that possibilities were endless.

_Hermione hadn't known exactly what she was signing up for, when she became an Unspeakable, but she quickly learned that this section of the Ministry didn't seem to abide by any rules of the civilized wizarding world. Once she'd passed a series of aptitude tests, she had been admitted, and immediately bound to silence by a spell stronger than she had read about. If the Potters had bound their traitorous keeper by this spell, he would have been blasted to pieces before he'd even opened his mouth to give up their location._

_ She was surprised when she had been escorted down into the Department of Mysteries by its head, a smartly dressed woman named Victoria Hamilton. She had thought that surely she would have had to do some sort of additional training, but here she was, being taken there immediately. It was at the door to the lift that she had met her _actual_ department head, Richard Harley, who gave her a conspiratorial smile that gave her all the information she needed to know. The Department of Mysteries was _so _secretive (and _so _paranoid) that even its staffing was kept shrouded in mystery._

_ "Welcome to the Department of Mysteries, Miss Granger. Your aptitude testing has shown you have a logic skillset conducive to the research done in the Time Room, so that is where you will be placed once you manage to complete your training. Should you choose to refuse your assignment or fail to complete your training, you will be removed," Harley said with a hint of amusement in his voice that perturbed her greatly._

_ "Removed? As in dismissed from my post?" she asked, her eyes glued on the floor beneath her feet, and then to him, when the door to his office shut._

_ It was strange, because she caught various types of movement barely outside of her field of vision, but she was either too focused on his words to care about it, or perhaps she hadn't been _able _to look up and around to investigate the main room of the department, where she'd already been once before. It was as if something had crept into her mind as a psychological blinder, keeping her from catching a glimpse of things she wasn't yet privy to._

_ "As in removed from existence, Miss Granger," Harley answered as if he was answering a question about the weather. "Now, have a seat."_

_ The wind had been knocked out of her, and she felt like she collapsed into the seat more than she had sat in it._

_ There was something strange going on with her body and with her mind, but she couldn't put the pieces together. She felt utterly helpless in a way that she never had before, even while facing death, which she supposed, ironically enough, she was doing now as well._

_ She looked at her new boss and took in his Cheshire cat smile, his salt-and-pepper hair, his well-structured face, his sharp blue eyes, and his expensive-looking cashmere sweater, which matched his eyes._

_ Wait a minute. He was wearing robes over a suit just a minute ago. She could have _sworn _to it. What was going on here?_

_ "There are three phases of training for your position. The first involves general training, which all of our Unspeakables receive. It will be split into various portions including combat training, linguistics, psychological manipulation, dark arts, etc. How 'long' this lasts, and keep in mind that I'm using the term in a very pragmatic context, depends on how 'quickly' you are able to adequately grasp each concept," he said._

_ She furrowed her brows at him, unsure of what he meant. Was he implying that time itself was a pragmatic concept instead of something more concrete? Was he using the term 'pragmatic' itself in a philosophical sense or in a practical sense? She really hoped linguistics training came first, as she was already having trouble following his train of thought._

_ She knew time was somewhat flexible, through her use of a time-turner, but she also knew that the passage of time itself wasn't._

_ ... was it?_

_ "The second portion of your training will be more specialized to your chosen field. You will learn quickly, Miss Granger, that we are a shrewd department, and that we do not make mistakes in placements. Not anymore, at least. We currently have four people working in the space division. We have fifteen working on thoughts. We have one who specializes in prophecies. We have two working in the death chamber. We have none working with love, and that is acceptable, because we currently do not know of a witch or wizard with an aptitude for it. There are various divisions of this department which have a plethora of witches and wizards working in them, and there are some that have none. It is how we operate, Miss Granger, but I would be lying if I were to tell you that it does not please me when a division that's been devoid of members gains one. Your department has not had a member for over three hundred years, so you will receive training from Mister Edward Witlingham."_

_ "I'm sorry?" she asked, both trying to comprehend what he had just said and trying to place the name which was somehow incredibly familiar to her._

_ "You have two choices to receive the appropriate training, which, luckily enough for you, also coincides with the final portion of your training regiment, Miss Granger," Harley said, sounding chipper._

_ She blinked up at him, ringing her hands nervously._

_ "You may choose to travel back in time to receive the training while Mister Witlingham was still alive, although how you choose to get there and how you choose to come back will be up to you. Or you may choose to receive the training in present day, by crossing over, as I'm sure you're familiar with, via the veil located in the Death Chamber. Coming back is your final bout of training," he said, his scrutinizing gaze delving into the depths of her soul via her eyes._

_ She wished she could look away, but she couldn't. She didn't know what sort of spell this man had placed over her, but she didn't doubt for one second that he was serious when he said he would remove her from the timeline. She didn't doubt that this man could erase her entire existence, and she didn't doubt that he was serious when he said that she was going to be forced either back in time, to fend for herself, or through the veil which had taken Sirius's life during her fifth year.._

_ "Come now, Miss Granger," he said, once he'd finally broken eye contact. He stood up and stretched out his hand. "It is time to begin."_

_ She took the proffered hand, sick to her stomach, wishing severely that she'd followed Ron and Harry into Auror training or even Lavender Brown into retail. Anything but this. But it was too late now, she knew, and she hoped that she was going to make it through these tests. Not only did her life depend on it, but so did her very existence._

"So tell me honestly, Perce," she said, snapping out of her thoughts. "You're considering changing the timeline even more while we're back in the past, aren't you?"

Percy chuckled, and she felt his chin scrape against the top of her head, signaling that he was shaking his head. "The thought crossed my mind, but I dismissed it immediately. There are too many unknowns, too many risks, and besides that, _death_ is my specialty. _Time _is yours."

She tightened her grip on him again and sighed. "So do you know what your assignment's going to be when we get there?"

"No clue," he answered, shrugging his shoulders. "I feel like it's a trap though."

"I won't let anything happen to you," she said earnestly, shutting her eyes tightly. She had actually had a similar feeling about his assignment, especially since not even McGonagall could give details on it, not because she didn't want to, but because she didn't _remember_. And that worried her. She was worried that Percy would be erased right out of this world.

Life was give-and-take. _Time _was give-and-take. Edward had taught her that. Just like he'd taught her about _him_, and the way _he_ tried to cast his revenge on anyone that tried to change things that were not meant to be changed.

She shivered and tried desperately to shake off the solemn thoughts that were threatening to invade the forefront of her mind.

"Promise me something," Percy said, and although she tried to cling to his person, he pushed her away, holding her at arm's length so that his tired blue eyes could meet her sad brown ones. "If I'm too weak to survive my punishment, preserve _our_ timeline, no matter what."

She gasped sharply, searching his gaze to see whether he truly knew what he was saying.

"You'll be okay," he said, confidently, with a sad smile. "But I'm not sure if I will be. So no matter what happens, preserve our work. Don't sacrifice all of them for me. Just stay strong and preserve our timeline. Promise me."

She blinked, tears springing up into her eyes. "You promise me you're not going to sacrifice yourself first," she begged quietly.

"I promise," he said, swallowing hard.

"I promise, too, then," she said, and crashed into his arms, sobbing into his chest, wishing that this damn year would just pass, so that she would no longer have to live in constant fear.


	3. Day 1 Part One

**Author's Note**: This is the last chapter before we're back in time. I hope you guys enjoy this and won't hate me too much for all of the Percy/Hermione moments, but their friendship is a big part of the story. And if you _do_ hate it, remember that he'll be away on a mission for most of the story anyway. *laughs*

* * *

**Chapter 2: Day 1/180 Part One**

When she awoke the next morning, it was to the sound of numerous merry voices and pots and pans clattering around in her kitchen. She untangled herself from the pale limbs she had been wrapped up in and rolled carefully out of bed, tip-toeing needlessly to her dresser and opening the third drawer slowly, grabbing a clean pair of knickers and slipping into them. She had also managed to put on a bra, a pair of jeans, and was halfway through buttoning her beige henley when she realized she was being irrationally quiet, as she knew that she wasn't any more likely to wake the redhead sleeping obliviously in her bed by walking or dressing normally than the herd of people she had in her flat.

She left the top two buttons undone and padded barefoot to the door, opening it and shutting it behind her quickly again, regretting for about the billionth time that she had given open access to her floo to every member of the Order.

At present, Mrs. Weasley was humming to herself as she was preparing breakfast, her beloved twin boys mashing buttons on Hermione's remote control, trying to figure out how to make the TV work. She'd shown them a million times, and yet they still managed to fail to grasp a concept which an infant child could. She looked past them to see that her flat had once again been magically altered to nearly triple its rightful size, a large table gracing the expanded area, various members of the Order mingling about.

"Good morning, Hermione, dear," Mrs. Weasley cheerily called, the first to have taken notice of her.

"Good morning, Mrs. Weasley - Molly," Hermione replied, stretching her arms above her head and yawning. "And good morning to everyone else."

She wasn't sure what they were all doing there, but she didn't bother asking. Sometimes this just happened. Usually it was when work had kept her busy, and she had made herself scarcely available to her surrogate family members, but this time, she had a feeling that it had more to do with the fact that she was scheduled to leave that afternoon. What tipped her off was the addition of miscellaneous Order members to the normal Weasley brood.

"Hermione!" Fred called, jumping up to his feet when he noticed her and rushing over to throw his arm around her. "Come show us how this telly-vision thing works again."

"Last time," George said, popping up beside her, wrapping his arm around her other side, "we found the number that had _nude women _on it. Could you help us find that one again?"

"_Boys_," Mrs. Weasley reprimanded, busy with her cooking but clearly not distracted enough to have deactivated her mother hearing.

"Only joking, Mum," Fred said, as both men simultaneously let go of her.

"Who do you think we are?" George asked, mock indignation filling his voice.

"Perverts or something?" Fred finished for his brother, winking at Hermione.

"Precisely that," Ginny answered, shooing her brothers away from Hermione as she approached.

"Hey, we'll have you know that-" both twins started to say in tandem, but Ron interruped with a "bugger off," appearing at Hermione's side alongside Ginny and Harry.

Fred gave her another wink, and the twins walked back to the 'telly-vision,' which Arthur Weasley had managed to turn on, a proud smile gracing his simply pleased face.

"So," Ginny said slowly. "You ready?"

"I guess," Hermione said, collapsing into a seat at her comparatively small dining room table.

"It's got to be comforting, though, knowing that all of what you're about to do has already happened. So just follow your instincts, and nothing could go wrong, right?" Ron asked obtusely, taking a seat across from her.

If only he knew how complex time was. Under normal circumstances, he'd be correct, but under present ones, what he said couldn't be further from the truth. The present day was hanging by a thread, and making a mistake in the past could reverse everything she'd nearly killed herself to achieve. In fact, time was working against her. She was more likely to mess something up than the other way around, which was the opposite of how time normally functioned.

She almost got a headache thinking about it, but she couldn't exactly correct Ron. He knew, just like the rest of the Order did, that there were people alive because of her who shouldn't be, but he didn't understand how or by what means, and that was exactly as she needed it to be.

"Ron, you're being thick," Ginny reprimanded. "_Obviously_, it's not that simple, is it?"

"Don't call me thick," Ron argued.

"I'll call you thick when you're being thick," Ginny huffed.

"_You're _thick!" he countered, and Hermione couldn't help but smile as the two began bickering.

Ginny didn't know exactly what had happened either, but she had a better grasp on it than Ron did. Either way, she felt comforted by the fact that the two had lived through a war and yet could still tease each other in a normal sibling fashion.

"I don't fully get how all of this works," Harry whispered to her, as Ginny and Ron's rowing grew louder, "but if you could, if it's possible, could you maybe take some pictures of my parents for me?"

Hermione smiled at her best friend and nodded. "Sure," she agreed.

"And don't forget anything," he requested. "I want to hear all about them. Except the sex bit. Because it _is_ still my mum and dad."

Hermione and Harry collapsed into a fit of giggles, which grew louder and louder, until the two redheads sitting with them at the table took notice of it, stopped their arguing, and instead joined in on the laughter, regardless of the fact that they didn't know what they were laughing about.

Once the laughter died down, the foursome fell into light-hearted conversation, centered around sex, parents, and catching parents having sex, which led to Hermione having scarring visions of Mr. And Mrs. Weasley in positions she didn't want to imagine but couldn't help _but _imagine when described by Ron and Ginny, who had walked in on their parents more times and in more places than any child should have to bear witness to.

Their conversation was only halted when Mrs. Weasley announced that breakfast was ready, and she levitated more dishes than Hermione possessed in her flat carrying food she _definitely _hadn't had stocked in her pantry or refrigerator to the large table by the window. Hermione sat down at the first available open spot, which was next to Lupin, and smiled courteously at her old Defense professor when he greeted her warmly.

"Although it's not in my place or in my good sense to remind you, I just want to stress again that you need not go through with this journey, Hermione," Lupin said, a sad smile gracing his peachy lips.

Hermione returned his smile with the most cheerful one she could muster. "I know, but I'm not worried," she lied. "Just knowing that I'm going back to you and Sirius puts my mind at ease."

"Well, it shouldn't," Sirius said with a youthful grin on his face that caught Hermione off-guard. It was an expression she wasn't used to seeing from him. "I apologize in advance for my past behavior."

"Errr?" Ron asked –or rather, growled – on her behalf, from somewhere a few seats to the right of Lupin.

"And I for mine, although in a context not similar to Sirius's," Lupin whispered to her, as Sirius launched into a story of his Marauding days, which captivated the attention of the younger Order members.

"In what context was your behavior worth apologizing for, then?" Hermione asked curiously. She had about a dozen different theories about things Sirius Black could be apologizing for, all of which would fit his personality type, but none of which would fit her former professor's.

"Just know that you may lay the blame on me, when you get back," Lupin said cryptically, a suddenly painful expression crossing his face. "And that nothing needs to change when you come back."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, unsure of what to make of his statement, but deciding that there was no point in pushing the matter, especially as she would soon enough know what he was talking about.

She didn't have time to join in on one of the nearby conversations of the giant table as she heard the door to her bedroom open, and a sleepy, shirtless man stumbled out of it, rubbing his eyes.

"Hey Perce," Hermione called shrilly, her face burning. "We have company."

Percy looked into their general direction, and his sleeping eyes widened, before he quickly backed back into her bedroom.

"... was that my brother?" Ron asked in shock.

"More importantly," Fred started.

"Was ickle Percy-kins really asleep until 9:36 in the morning?" George started. "That's practically the afternoon for him."

"He wasn't sleeping in a full set of robes either, Georgey," Fred said in amazement.

"That couldn't have been Perfect Prefect Percy then, Freddy," George deduced.

Hermione felt her face grow hotter and hotter, and she buried her face in her hands.

There was an ideal way to tell the Weasley clan she'd been sleeping with one of their own, and then there was _this _way. If he'd emerged from her bedroom wearing at least a shirt of _some _sort or maybe some _pants_, then she could have written off his appearance as him having fallen asleep at her flat after working late or something, but there was no way she could go that route as planned since Percy had unwittingly taken the initiative to out their relationship, which wasn't really a relationship besides the occasional romp in the hay and loads of cuddling.

"Knock it off, you two," demanded the unexpected voice of Sirius Black.

Hermione blinked rapidly and gazed appreciatively at the man sitting across from Lupin, who once again seemed unfazed at the present situation as he hummed quietly to himself and put jam on a scone.

Hermione wanted to thank him, but the words remained caught in the back of her throat, so she stayed staring at him in silence until a sound from across the room caught her attention again, and she looked toward it to see Percy emerge wearing a much more respectable pair of jeans and maroon sweater, one of the changes of clothing he kept here.

Although this was still more casual than would satisfy the troublesome twins, it seemed normal enough for most of everyone else, who resumed conversation amongst themselves. Ron still gaped at her, until Ginny had the good sense to flick his ear. Mrs. Weasley still looked scandalized, although a small part of her looked guilt-inducingly pleased. It was clear from the way she beamed up at Percy when he bent over to give her a kiss on the cheek that, although she disapproved of the current scenario, she was overall pleased with the pairing.

Charlie Weasley, who was sitting on the other side of Hermione, slid over closer to his father, making room for Percy to sit next to Hermione, something which made Hermione flinch. How she would tell the expectant Weasley family that she and Percy lacked a proper relationship was beyond her, especially after this blown-up display.

"I'm surprised you didn't blow the coup," Hermione noted dryly, reaching in front of her to grasp the plate of eggs. She scooped three eggs onto her plate, popping out the yolks, and then transferring the remaining whites to Percy's plate.

"I couldn't get past your apparition wards with my wand still in the dining room," Percy answered just as dryly.

One of the corners of Hermione's mouth tilted up into a smile, as she reached behind her and pulled his wand out of her back pocket. She'd pocketed it when she saw it laying on her regular table.

"Thanks," he said, returning her smile as he took his wand and put it into his own back pocket.

"You're welcome," she replied, watching happily as he shoved a pancake stack, with the walnuts removed, onto her plate. She didn't like walnuts but didn't want to appear rude.

"Well, if that's not the most adorable thing I've seen in ages," Bill Weasley remarked in what he'd probably meant to have been a whisper to his wife, but came out loud enough to grasp the attention of everyone on this side of the table, who had also been watching their exchange of food.

Hermione groaned, dropped her silverware and shoving her face into her hands again. She felt Percy's hand on the small of her back, rubbing in a circular motion like he knew usually comforted her, not helping the present situation at all.

She sighed and stabbed into her walnut-free pancake vigorously, knowing there was nothing she could do or say to get the attention off her, so she merely waited it out in silence, watching with jealousy as Percy engaged his father and eldest two brothers in conversation about a Muggle football outing they were planning upon Percy's safe return.

Hermione ignored the way Mrs. Weasley eyed the hand Percy still had placed on her lower back and the way she and Fleur whispered girlishly. She sometimes wished Mrs. Weasley still hated Fleur. It'd be more convenient for Hermione.

She looked in the other direction and was pleased that Fred and George had become distracted with teasing Ron about the blond streaks he'd decided to put into his hair. Ginny and Harry were conversing with Sirius, Tonks, and Angelina Johnson about an upcoming Quidditch game she'd had no knowledge of or interest in. Everyone seemed to be content with their morning chatter, except for Lupin, who was staring off into empty space, caught in his own thoughts.

"Sorry to disturb your thoughts, but I think you're my only ally at the moment," Hermione quietly said, a small smile on her face when his gaze focused and then directed itself at her, his warm blue eyes softly meeting her brown ones.

"No need to apologize, Hermione," he replied as kindly as he always did. "It's nice seeing everyone so carefree though, isn't it?"

She nodded, smiling. "Ever since I've known this world, _our _world, all I've known is death and destruction. I didn't think it would ever be like this."

"It only is because of you," he said earnestly. "Your accomplishments are tremendous."

She didn't know why, but she couldn't help but blush at his comment. She'd heard this very sentiment expressed by numerous people in the past, and she had grown somewhat used to it, annoyed of it even. And yet when he said it, she actually _felt _accomplished. Maybe because hero's praise meant more coming from someone who she considered a hero as well.

"Thank you, Remus," she said grinning at his compliment. "You always manage to cheer me up."

"You have a similar effect on me," he replied quietly, momentarily looking lost in thought again.

"I'd believe you more if you hadn't said that looking like I'd killed your owl," she teased, poking him in the side.

He turned back toward her and smiled one of his rare, but increasingly more frequent, smiles. "My apologies."

"No need to apologize, Remus," she repeated, echoing the soft, whimsical way he'd said that to her moments before.

"Clever witch, aren't you?" Lupin asked, taking a sip of his tea.

"If I'm so clever, then why can't I figure out a way to stop _that_ from happening?" she asked bitterly, as Fleur and Mrs. Weasley made no attempt to stop their gossiping, even though Percy's hand had slipped off her back

"You're not pleased about your relationship with Mr. Weasley being discovered?" Remus asked carefully.

She refrained from groaning again, for she felt she was already reverting back into a petulant child, but a sigh did escape her lips.

"I wouldn't mind if there had been a relationship to discover," she admitted. "My real issue lies in the fact that I now have to have a conversation with Mrs. Weasley, who is like a second mother to me, explaining to her that I am not dating any of her children while trying to avoid sounding like a common whore, because while I'm not dating any of her children, I've still managed to sleep with three of them."

To his credit, Lupin didn't choke on his tea or send her a judgmental look. He finished his sip and lowered the cup, the corner of his mouth quirking upward. "Yes, that does seem to be quite the predicament."

"Thank Merlin she doesn't even know it's been three. I think she assumed with Ron, since he and I dated for two years, and now she clearly knows about Percy, but I'll be damned if she finds out about George," Hermione said, searching out the man in question and infinitely grateful that he had enough sense to keep his mouth shut about the incident. She reckoned that Fred knew about it, since he'd coyly referenced it several times following the incident, but she didn't think that anyone else did. Besides Percy. And now Lupin.

But Lupin was either the least judgmental person, the most perceptive person, had the best poker face, or... she was telling him something he already knew. She narrowed her eyes at him, aware of his awareness when his smile grew.

"So you already knew I wasn't dating Percy. And you already knew I'd slept with George," she accused. "How?"

He shrugged, glancing off to his side, and Hermione became aware of the fact that Sirius had caught onto the whispered conversation and was nursing his glass of milk with the same childish smile he'd had on his face when he'd announced to her that her mission would be to ensure Harry's conception.

Her slit eyes darted back and forth between the men, but when it seemed that neither was willing to give anything up, she breathed out in exasperation and pursed her lips, pouting, and turning to poke Percy in the side.

"Are you packed?" she asked, when he turned his attention to her.

"Mostly," he answered. "I'm having a bit of difficulty, though, since I'm not sure exactly what I'm packing for."

"I'll help. I'm an excellent packer," she said, standing abruptly from the bench. "Thank you all for the lovely surprise. You can feel free to make yourselves at home, but Percy and I have an errand to run, so we'll see you later."

She ignored the catcalls from the twins and walked over to Mrs. Weasley, bending down to give both her and her husband a kiss on the cheek, thanking them for breakfast, before grabbing Percy's hand and apparating them the hell out of there.

* * *

**A/N**: A bit more interaction between Hermione and Remus. My favorite moment, though, is the one between Hermione and the twins. I love the twins, and I hope to have done them justice.


	4. Day 1 Part Two and Day 2 Part One

**Chapter 3: Day 1/180 Part Two & Day 2/180 Part One**

She looked at the glimmering piece of jewelry in her hand. It wasn't gaudy, like she expected from something that was a part of the Black lineage. It consisted of intricately weaved platinum holding a black gemstone (Onyx? Obsidian? Black Diamond? She didn't know.) firmly in its center. It had elaborate etchings around the gem and on the back, which she assumed were magical inscriptions. She wished she'd had more time to research it, as Sirius was absolutely useless when it came to information about the amulet or even how it functioned. The only information he supplied her with was "once you put it on, it's not coming off unless a Black takes it off you, so don't worry about losing it because the chain's a tad flimsy-looking," which she supposed was an attempt at reassurance. She never did know with him.

She supposed she could always research it while she was in the past. She wasn't too concerned with the difficulty of her so-called primary 'mission.' She was more concerned about any side missions the Order would provide her with, but she reckoned that she would've been warned if it was anything dangerous. But then again, maybe not.

It was odd to her how little McGonagall knew. She knew basic details about Hermione's time in the past, because she lived through it, but every time she tried to remember specifics, she couldn't. Hermione wondered if it was a side effect of changing the past. She just hoped she didn't change it any further. It was too unpredictable and could be even more disastrous. She was already walking a thin line. All she wanted to do was cement the timeline and come back.

She just hoped that was a feasible venture.

"You ready to go, love?" Sirius asked her, hanging the chain around her neck.

She felt the heavy air she knew was associated with ancient magic, as the amulet burned against her skin, through her robes.

"What about Percy?" she asked, looking at her friend, who finished saying goodbye to his family and joined her.

"Simple enough," Sirius said, taking hold of the chain around her neck and pulling it roughly.

She flinched, expecting to feel the tug of the chain, but instead, the links duplicated, and the chain stretched to compensate for Sirius's actions. She watched in amazement as Sirius touched the chain to Percy's shoulder and let go once it glowed a bright orange color. The chain crawled down his robes until it found the bare skin of his left hand. It wound itself around his hand, returning to normal.

"It's Black-directed magic, but I've willed it to do the same thing on your return journey. I apologize for young me in advance, for throwing a fit when it doesn't listen to me," Sirius said, smiling apologetically. "The amulet is bound to you, so once you arrive, it should let go of Weasley and stay with you. When you're ready to come back, it's as simple as repeating what I'm about to do now, if you're ready."

"I'm ready," she said, looking around the room at all of the Order, sans Snape.

"Good luck, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger – Hermione," McGonagall said gently, sending her a forced smile.

"Thanks," she replied, taking Percy's hand, and putting on a brave smile for her comrades.

Sirius took the amulet into his hands gingerly and sent her the most devilish smile she'd seen in her life. "Happy journey, you two," he said, suddenly grabbing the amulet and pulling it to himself.

This time, she was pulled forward with it, almost painfully, and she watched in horror as Sirius threw the amulet – and them – to the side. The chain around her neck rotated her with it, and they began to spin with the amulet, but instead of slowing down like it normally would due to gravity, the blackness of the gem in the center grew outward, consuming the entire amulet and the chain in a sinister black light, and they began to spin even faster. As the spinning continued on its reckless course, the darkness spread. Or was it the other way around?

She gripped Percy's hand as firmly as she could, as her entire world, including herself, blacked out, and nausea overwhelmed her. And then, instead of gradually slowing down, just as they had sped up, she abruptly stopped, her neck lurching forward, giving her mild whiplash akin to what she felt when she'd been in an automobile accident with her parents as a child. She almost flew forward onto the ground, but she was caught by Percy, who somehow had avoided the injury she had.

He steadied her and let go, looking around. She followed his gaze around their landing area and furrowed her eyebrows, unsure of where they were. She was used to her time-turner placing her exactly where she had left from, just in a different time. But this was definitely not current Order Headquarters, and it was definitely not any place she'd been before. Nor was there anyone she recognized.

They were in a forest, dark looming trees obscuring her view of anything helpful in the distance. The foliage was so dense that she almost couldn't see the moon. Unlike when they'd left, it was the dead of the night, although she assumed through the placement of the moon and the time of the year that it would be morning soon.

She took a step forward, trudging through leaves, the shrunken trunk in her pocket bouncing happily as she tried to navigate the uneven ground. She walked forward, feeling Percy's nervous presence following her.

She knew it was a long shot, but she turned to Percy and asked, "do you know where we-"

She was cut off by a loud, low, rumbling growl that was closer than she would have liked. She was thrown onto the ground by Percy, who'd had a faster reaction time than she, and she narrowly avoided a dark mass flying over her.

Even though it was dark, and she had only caught a glimpse of what had just flown over them, she knew _exactly _what it was. She would never forget the sight of that long, irregular, barrel-chested wolf-like being, nor would she ever forget the menacing, yet painful growl that distinguished the creature as something beyond just a mere creature – as a human.

"That's a werewolf," she gasped, as Percy pulled her to her feet and took out his wand.

"What's your animagus form, Hermione?" Percy asked, not bothering to reply to her obvious statement. "Is it the same as your patronus?"

"No," she answered distractedly, looking around them frantically, trying to see exactly where the werewolf had disappeared to. "I'm a sable."

After he had lunged, he'd either halted, or he treaded more lightly, because she had no idea where he had gone, and the thought was terrifying. She did _not _want to contract lycanthropy, not in a year when the Wolfsbane potion hadn't been invented yet. Although she supposed that theoretically, she _could _make herself a batch if she could get ahold of the ingredients, since she knew how to brew it.

"Good," he said breathlessly, circling his head around in search of the unfortunate man who was hunting them. "If he comes back, transform and run for it. I'll try to follow you, but if we lose one another, I'll send a patronus when I'm safe."

"I don't like this," she said, skeptical of splitting up when they were in an unknown place and in a largely unknown time.

"I don't either, but werewolves hunt people, not animals, so we haven't much of a choice," Percy said.

She opened her mouth to reply, but she heard a rustling nearby, and she saw the glowering eyes of a werewolf, looking at its prey – them.

She knew he was right, but she still felt uncomfortable, as she willed her body to transform. Her bones compressed painfully, and she felt the familiar yet always strange feeling of fur coating her body. She was nimble and quick in this form, and she knew that if she was in danger, she could easily hide herself in any crevice she found, where the werewolf wouldn't be able to find her. She didn't take Percy's obvious relief at the fact that she wasn't an otter personally. She'd be easy prey on land if she was.

She craned her neck around, unsure of what she was looking for. She had no idea what Percy's form was, but as she looked around, then up, it became obvious. He was possibly the most interestingly colored animal she had ever seen. He was a small bird with a red belly, a yellow and green color-blocked back, and a bright blue head.

His aviary form explained why he said he would follow her. It would probably be substantially easier for him to follow her in flight than the other way around.

She stood still momentarily, watching him fluttering about, until she was shaken out her thoughts by a long, loud howl, and the werewolf lunged for Percy.

_What the-?_ Werewolves didn't hunt animals. The simple act of transforming should have made him safe.

She watched with bated breath as Percy managed to dive to avoid him, and then he flew into the sky, trying to get out of reach from him.

Hermione wished that she could have been something bigger, something to combat with the lyncanthropy-afflicted wizard, but she wasn't, so when she saw the werewolf turn to set his sights on her, her eyes widened, and she ran for it.

She was happy that she fell into her stride easily, especially when she heard growling behind her growing louder. She looked around frantically, trying to find that crevice she desperately needed right now, since his long legs and knowledge of the terrain gave him the advantage, even in his altered, animalistic mental state

Luckily, she came across a hollow log, and she climbed inside of it. She wasn't confident about whether or not he would be able to reach his abnormally long limbs inside to get her, but she didn't get the chance to find out, as he clawed at the log, rolling it down, and dislodging her from it before it could even become a proper hiding place.

She called out for Percy, but he didn't reply, signaling to her that he'd already lost her, not that she blamed him. He'd been fighting for his life himself when the werewolf chased them apart. She then called out for any animals in the area to help her, but there was a strange silence in this area.

Usually, upon transformation, there was at least a simplistic line of communication between herself and other creatures, whether it was ants telling her to shut up or a dog asking if she wanted to be friends. Now, however, there was nothing. It was eerie, how silent it was.

She had a bad feeling, as she continued to run, looking for another place to hide, because the werewolf seemingly realized she was no longer in the log and was gunning for her.

She wasn't sure whether she'd be safer climbing up a tree or trying to burrow into a hole. She didn't know how well werewolves could climb, but she knew their strength would allow them to unearth her in a hole that was too shallow, and Hermione wasn't skilled enough in her animagus form to dig efficiently, so she launched herself onto a tree and began clawing herself up, feeling exhausted already, feeling that this didn't bode too well either.

Nevertheless, the adrenaline pumping through her body didn't allow her to stop her climb. She was fearful, not of death, but of being caught. If the werewolf caught up to her, she'd be forced to transform and use magic against him. She knew how powerful of a spell she'd have to cast to take down a werewolf, and she was fearful of what that would mean for the afflicted man when his body didn't possess the superhuman strength it currently did. She was afraid the poor soul wouldn't be able to cope once dawn broke.

Hermione pulled herself up the tree, craning her neck sideways and chancing a glance below her. He was right there.

Hermione continued her climb until she could go no further, and she began to crawl out onto one of the sturdier branches, knowing that it could support her weight, but there was no way in hell it would support his.

She only hoped even the animalistic frame of mind he was currently in was intelligent enough to realize this but not that he was intelligent enough to simply shake her down.

Luck was on her side this time, because the wolf, despite his abnormally lanky frame, couldn't continue his grip on the tree, and he slid down, circling it and staring upward.

She kept her eyes glued on him as her mind raced, asking a million questions, the first of which was a repeat of one she'd already asked – why was a werewolf hunting her in her animagus form?

'_Percy_,' she called out desperately. '_Percy, are you nearby?'_

She didn't know whether the werewolf had injured him when he'd leapt for him. She was too low to the ground, her view obstructed of what had happened. She _knew _he'd seen him fly off, but she didn't know what state he'd been in. She hoped he was alright. With a small form, she knew from experience that any little injury could translate into a big injury once human again.

'_Percy, if you're out there, answer me. If something happens to you, no evil Ministry boss, prophecy, big bad Keeper of Time, or werewolf is going to lead to my demise – it's going to be your mum,' _she thought desperately, as the werewolf continued to circle around the tree she was perched in.

She looked into the sky and saw the moon had sunken further down, and the sky was beginning to lighten. She knew it was close to sunrise, and she was anxious to get out of this tree. She just hoped for two things right now – that Percy was alright and that the wizard below her was friendly.

_'Who are you?' _she heard suddenly, startling her.

_'Hermione Granger. **Where** are you?' _she asked, looking around.

She didn't get a response, but she heard nearby rustling on the ground, and she saw a large black dog appear just as she saw the first glimpse of the sun beyond the horizon.

She watched in relief as the werewolf calmed momentarily, apparently regaining some of his sanity. The relief she felt was short-lived, however, when she heard his howls of anger turn into anguished cries of pain, as wolf turned to human. She cringed, never having been so proximal to a transformation going this way. It sounded far more painful than the other way around, although she knew the notion was a naïve one. If anything, it was probably the other way around. She could see bite marks on the man's skin, which looked to be his own, and he had cuts and bruises everywhere. He looked to be unconscious, and she momentarily felt guilty at having forced him to go on a hunt up a tree, where he probably suffered further injury, although she knew she didn't have much of a choice.

As she crawled down the tree toward the now human pair, the better look she got affirmed what she'd suspected – it was Sirius and Lupin. _That _was why she was sent there.

Relief flooded through her, as she saw their familiar faces, even though one looked barely alive.

When she was on the ground, she transformed back into her human state. She reached out her hand to Sirius, who was looking between her and Remus with a hard expression.

"Like I said earlier, I'm Hermi- grggh."

And just like that, with a swift wave of Sirius's wand and a dark blue light, she was knocked unconscious.


	5. Day 2 Part Two

**Author's Note**: We've got a long chapter here, guys! In it you'll get a glimpse of some familiar faces and see an unflattering side to some of our main characters. I tried to stay as true to the original Order as I could, so I kept what details were given and made up feasible ones for any that weren't.

* * *

**Chapter 4: Day 2/180 Part Two**

When Hermione woke up, she felt groggy and sore but was grateful not to be bound gagged, considering the less than warm welcome she had received from a young Sirius Black courtesy of the end of his wand. She sat up and blinked through the dust that flittered through the room and was surprised to find she wasn't being guarded. She was tucked into a bed, still fully robed, with curtains only partially drawn, allowing light in.

Her eyes darted around the room suspiciously, especially when she noticed that everything on her person was in-tact except for her missing wand. She crawled out of the bed, her mind going over strategies she'd been taught during her Unspeakable training for using weak wandless magic to incapacitate an opponent when disarmed. She wasn't confident of being able to take on Sirius Black, or any other Order member for that matter, unarmed and lethargic as she was, but she was hoping that they'd let her explain. After all, she wasn't tied up, and that had to be a good thing.

She crept toward the door, wondering what sort of approach she should take, when she realized something else.

_Percy_. He was still missing.

She threw open the door hurriedly, throwing caution to the wind, and found herself in a hallway covered in pictures. She didn't take the time to inspect them as she didn't particularly care about aesthetics at the moment. She heard voices coming from the end of the hall, down a stairwell, so she jogged there, her robes billowing behind her in a fashion that she, under any other circumstances, would have laughed at for being so Snape-esque. At present, however, her mind was preoccupied with finding her possibly injured friend.

She flew down the stairs despite her fatigue but paused when she heard him; it was his quiet, worn voice speaking beyond an arched opening. She slowed her pace and carefully walked toward his voice, peeking around the corner. She immediately spotted his red hair, in a crowd of neutral tones, and she sighed in relief.

Apparently, this sigh attracted the attention of the numerous occupants of the room, and they all turned toward her. She was relieved to note that this time, no wands were drawn.

Percy immediately rose to his feet and walked over to her, putting his arm around her and leading her to the kitchen table.

"Hermione, are you alright?" he whispered, sitting her down on the bench of the kitchen table.

"I'm alright," she answered, as the magnitude of the curse Sirius had fired sank in, now that she had a chance to think about it without adrenaline masking her injuries. "Are _you_ okay? I was worried when I lost communication with you."

"Me, too, but apparently we landed in a special sort of forest," Percy replied.

"You landed in the Forest of Awry," said a gruff voice, interrupting their conversation.

Hermione took the cue and looked away from Percy, toward the rest of the room. Across from her at the table, she immediately recognized the speaker, a young Sirius Black, lacking all the scars she had grown accustomed to, his eyes lacking all the warmth she'd always known from him as well. Next to him, she saw a woman with short, black hair and sharp brown eyes. With his arm around her, was a man with a curly brown hair and a haircut to match the woman's. Both were wearing what she recognized immediately as Auror garb, which hadn't changed much in twenty years. At the kitchen sink was a tall man with shoulder-length black hair and patchy facial hair standing next to shorter blond woman and an even shorter man with an elaborately decorated top hat.

"The Forest of Awry?" she asked, her eyes meeting Sirius's once she finished inspecting the room.

"It's part of the land surrounding this house that's been so thoroughly charmed to deflect visitors that even animals stay out of it. Anyone who does manage to break through the wards is immediately detected, and their magic is repressed," Sirius further explained, rather flatly.

"That explains why I didn't even hear a field mouse respond when I called out in my animal form," she mumbled dryly.

"That you were able to transform at all is lucky enough. We'll have to examine the parameters more closely," the woman next to Sirius said.

"I'll check them on my way out tonight," the man next to her said.

"Make sure to let McGonagall know if you find anything," she replied.

"Yes, dear," he agreed, leaning over to place a kiss on her temple.

Her previously stern expression let up, and she couldn't help but smile at the affectionate display.

The woman, who appeared to be less tense now, reached out her hand to Hermione.

"I'm Alice," she introduced, when Hermione took her hand.

Hermione let the woman grip her hand firmly, her eyes widening and her jaw dropping. "Alice Longbottom?" she asked.

"This is my husband, Frank," Alice elaborated, an amused smile gracing her lips.

Frank stuck out his hand and shook Hermione's next.

Hermione should have been prepared to meet old Order members, but it still felt very surreal to be sitting across the table from Neville's parents. Her mind went blank, and the first thing she noticed in amazement was that neither one of them had blond hair. Although Frank had Neville's slightly pushed in nose and his wide ears, the rest of Neville's facial features belonged to his mother. Or rather, it was the other way around, she supposed.

"Hermione Granger," she finally answered, after Percy nudged her in the side. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Now him," Alice said, pointing to Percy, "he has a name I recognize. The Weasleys are everywhere, and it's hard to miss 'em with that hair of theirs. Granger, on the other hand, is a new one for me."

"I'm Muggleborn," she quickly explained.

"Well, none of us here are the type to care about that," Alice said. "A witch is a witch, and any witch who's up on her feet after being cursed by an angry Black after being chased up a tree by a werewolf, after transforming into an animagus in a magically drained environment is a strong witch at that."

A smile crept onto Hermione's face as she listened to the woman speak in earnest, and Hermione tried to preserve the memory as well as she could. She was going to bottle this moment and let Neville watch it in a pensieve so he could see just what kind of a woman his mother truly was, even to a stranger under suspicious circumstances.

"Thank you," Hermione said, in awe, exchanging smiles with the woman.

"You're welcome. But back to what your comrade was talking about before you joined us - not all of us are in at the moment, but we've got," Alice pivoted her head around to see who was behind her, "Edgar Bones with the ridiculous facial hair, Marlene McKinnon pouting because Lily isn't back yet, and our newest member Dedalus Diggle, wearing the top hat like it's going out of style, assuming it was ever in style. Which it isn't and never will be, by the way."

Hermione giggled as Diggle huffed out indignantly.

"And this is Sirius Black, of course," she said, pointing to Sirius, who was still peering at her suspiciously.

It really was interesting to her how different this Sirius was from the Sirius she was used to. He was younger, obviously, and his face wasn't marred by fine lines and scars. He had thicker black hair, and it was shorter but just as shaggy as she was used to. He had a five o'clock shadow on his face, and his eyes were cold and emotionless. She was used to warmth in his eyes, but now there was no playfulness in his steely grey gaze. Every time her gaze met his, she couldn't help but dwell on how _cold _he was. Wasn't young Sirius a prankster? Was that something war knocked out of him immediately after finishing his education?

"I've sent for Albus Dumbledore. He should be here shortly," Sirius said matter-of-factly.

Hermione nodded and turned to Percy. "How much have you told them?"

"Enough to get him to take the bindings off you but not enough to get our wands back," Percy said.

And that answered her next question.

"We'll wait to see what Professor Dumbledore thinks we should do, like we planned?" she asked.

"Yes," he affirmed, nodding once.

"How's Remus?" she asked, turning to Sirius again.

Sirius narrowed his eyes at her for a moment and gritted his teeth, before his eyes finally softened. "He's resting. We usually have three of us to entertain him, but the other two aren't in, at the moment. And then we had some uninvited guests who decided to make his evening even more difficult. He had a more eventful night than he's used to, needless to say."

"That makes two of us," she said, smiling wryly. "It's not often I get knocked out cold when I'm trying to greet someone."

Although Sirius still had a neutral expression on his face, she could see the hint of a smirk forming at one corner of his mouth. He looked pleased with himself, and she had to restrain herself from giggling.

"Yes, well, precautions, you know?" he asked, and it was clear that she wasn't going to get an apology.

"Yes, of course," she said, smiling in amusement. "'Precautions.'"

"I'm surprised you let yourself get taken down so easily," Percy teased.

She swatted his arm and tried to ignore the growing smirk of satisfaction on Sirius's face.

She looked around the room again and didn't miss the way everyone was trying a bit too hard to observe her 'casually.' It was clear that even though the mood had lightened a bit, they were all being vigilant of any wrong moves from her. She couldn't exactly blame them. If someone popped up at Order headquarters, she didn't know if the Sirius of her time would even give them the benefit of the doubt before binding them and administering a strong batch of veritaserum - probably one _she _had brewed.

The room settled into silence, and she was glad Percy was here. He was oddly relaxed right now, and just his presence was calming to her. He was familiar, his touch comforting.

She could see movement beneath the table as the Longbottoms, unaware of their impending doom, played hooky out of sight, light-hearted smiles gracing their faces. She ignored them and looked out the window above the sink. There wasn't a curtain obstructing her view, and she could see a forest off in the distance. She assumed that those were the grounds that'd been mentioned earlier. She wondered exactly how Percy had intercepted her and Sirius and what had happened after she'd been knocked unconscious, but she didn't ask. She decided to leave all her questions until later, either when Dumbledore arrived or when she was alone with Percy.

"So is anyone else here?" she asked, refraining from asking exactly what she wanted to, which was whether the rat traitor was here.

"Besides us? Remus is resting in his room, and Benjy is in the guest quarters – Benjy Fenwick, that is," Alice answered. "He's just gotten back from a mission."

"Alice," Frank said gently, meaningfully, as a reminder to not reveal more information than that.

"And Dumbledore's coming," Alice said, ignoring her husband.

"Will Professor McGonagall be coming with Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione asked quietly.

"No, my dear girl. Staff development at Hogwarts must go on," said a gentle, lackadaisical voice from the archway she had come from.

Hermione looked up and saw him for the first time in years. There he was, looking completely unchanged from how she remembered him up until the day he died. He still had a long, white beard and twinkling blue eyes. He didn't look like he had any more or any less wrinkles than she remembered, but she supposed that was because his age was already advanced enough to where twenty years wouldn't have made much of a difference.

She jumped up, unable to control herself or remember her place, and she pounced at the elder wizard, throwing her arms around him fiercely. She vaguely registered a commotion behind her, and she assumed it was everyone in the room going into a protective mode, ready to get her off of her old headmaster, but Dumbledore waved them off, enveloping her in his arms.

He rubbed her back gently, and the motion was enough to send her over the edge into an emotional wreckage. Tears flooded her eyes, and she wept into his robes.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled after a minute, as she dislodged herself from his gentle embrace. "I'm just so happy to see you, Professor."

In the back of her mind, her logical side was telling her that Dumbledore would pick up on the implications of her statement, but she didn't care. Nor did he really seem surprised or concerned with what she was saying.

"It's quite alright," he reassured her, a gentle smile on his face. "Now, why don't we have a seat some place more comfortable so we can discuss your visit?"

"Yes, Sir," she said, letting him lead her into the adjacent sitting room, which she'd skipped over in her haste to make sure Percy was safe.

She sat down where he directed her, onto a comfortable tan sofa with blankets strewn about it. She looked up to see the rest of the Order had followed them in, and were standing around awkwardly, as the sparsely furnished room only had room to comfortably sit maybe six, and three places were already occupied, as Percy sat next to her, and Dumbledore strangely took a place in a sunken in single.

Luckily for them, their decision was made for them.

"Dedalus, my dear boy, your mother will be worried sick if you don't check in with her," Dumbledore said. "And Mr. Bones, Miss McKinnon, you two need not miss work to stay here. Our guests will be tended to adequately, I assure you."

"But Professor," Diggle whined, and Hermione smiled at the young man and the words she remembered Professor McGonagall spoke about him all those years ago, before he'd died. She'd said that he lacked sense.

"We'll make sure he gets home," Bones said, taking Dumbledore's hint and walking away with a struggling Diggle trailing behind.

"I'll see you lot tomorrow," McKinnon said, sending a brilliant smile to everyone in the room, and even sparing a courteous one for Hermione.

"It was nice to meet you," Hermione called, as the beautiful blonde exited the room.

"Now then, let's get down to business, shall we?" Dumbledore asked, a smile still on his face. "Is the group we have here satisfactory, or shall we talk even more privately?"

Hermione looked around and saw the Longbottoms on a two-seater, Alice looking relaxed and Frank looking more alert. Sirius appeared to be less hostile now that Dumbledore was here, but he still wasn't as warm as she was used to from him.

"I think this will be okay," Percy answered. "Hermione?"

"I think so, too," Hermione agreed, then hesitated. "It's important though, that what we talk about doesn't leave us."

"Of course, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, and Hermione assumed that her name had already been provided to him.

But then she saw a slight raised eyebrow from Sirius, who also caught the fact that he referred to her by name, so… maybe not.

"What is discussed today cannot be shared, even among the closest of friends," Dumbledore said, making eye contact with both Frank and Alice, who nodded, and then letting his gaze linger over Sirius. "Our visitors are putting a certain amount of trust in us, so we shall be good hosts and extend the same courtesy by respecting that privacy. For now, at least."

Sirius frowned and looked away, but said nothing to argue.

"Now that formalities are out of the way, why don't you tell us why you're here?" Dumbledore asked gently, as if he was talking to a baby animal he thought might scare easily.

"Well, it's a bit complicated," she said, unsure of how or where to begin.

She and Percy had been banging their head against the wall for days now trying to figure out how much to tell this Dumbledore. However embarrassing it might be, they had decided they would tell him about her mission to ensure Harry's creation and Percy's mission, which was similar but far more substantial, in her eyes. His mission was to escort Frank Longbottom on _his_ next mission for the Order and protect his life, so that he could return and impregnate Alice with Neville.

Why their presence in the past was vital to ensuring the future was the subject both of them were unsure about. Hermione and Percy's meddling with the timeline went all the way back to Albus Dumbledore's youth. So the fact that something in the 1970s was affected wasn't at all surprising. Still, it was something that was hard to explain, and if she had to be honest, she was afraid to tell Dumbledore of what she had done and why, because he had sacrificed his life to end the war, and she had almost jeopardized that out of selfishness.

She wasn't sure if Percy's hesitation to tell Dumbledore existed for similar reasons or whether he was concerned about the implications of changing the timeline, but they had come into the present situation still at odds about how much to tell him.

"As life tends to be," Dumbledore said whimsically. "Why don't you tell us enough to ease Mr. Black's nerves, and if a need to know more arises, we shall address it then? I have a feeling that imparting too much knowledge on us, in this rare case, may not be wise decision."

Hermione wanted to hug Dumbledore. He really was something. She had known it growing up, she had known it after his death, and she was reminded of it once again now. He just _knew_ the situation, without her having to express her concerns.

"As you wish, Professor," Percy said formally. "As I've already told most of the present company, Hermione and I arrived here as a result of some ancient magic, directed by allies of yours, in an effort to ensure the Dark Lord's defeat and reduce casualties. I suppose we should be more specific now that we have your audience, Sir."

Percy turned to Hermione, and nodded for her to start with a little show-and-tell like they'd rehearsed.

"We were aided in our journey by a very dear friend, who let me borrow something that's been in his family for generations," she said, and she reached into her shirt to tug on the chain, dislodging the amulet from its place at the swell of her breasts and pulling it upward and out.

It barely came into view before Sirius, who had opted to remain standing by the doorway until now, launched himself at her and attempted to grab it from her. The amulet glowed a bright green and ate through the top layer of Sirius's skin, as if it was acid.

"How did you get that?" Sirius demanded, not caring that his hand was red and raw, as he tried again. "TELL ME."

The amulet had the same effect, burning Sirius's skin and flying back to lay securely around Hermione's neck.

"Listen to me, dammit," Sirius bellowed. "I am your master."

Sirius was speaking to the amulet, which continued to glow around Hermione's neck in warning. Sirius became even more incited by the action and stepped toward Hermione again.

Percy quickly got onto his feet and stepped between Sirius and Hermione, protecting her, even though the action was unnecessary, because Dumbledore had already raised his hand, prompting everyone to cease their quarreling.

"Mr. Black, please allow Miss Granger the chance to speak," Dumbledore chastised, once everyone had settled down again.

"Sorry," Sirius muttered, not seeming very sorry at all.

"You gave it to me," she said, directly at Sirius, who scoffed at the idea immediately.

"I hardly think so," he said. "Especially since the stupid thing won't listen to anyone under 25."

That explained why her Sirius apologized for his actions and being bitter at not being able to control the amulet. Her interest in the piece of metal around her neck grew further. There was something about ancient pureblood magic that was worth investigating.

"Good thing you were 42 when you put it on me," she said, challenging him to further mock her.

"Excuse me?" Sirius asked, all the sarcasm in his voice drained out and replaced with shock.

"We come from a little more than 20 years in the future. Hermione and I were sent here by Professor McGonagall, with the help of the Blacks' locket, because the timeline is in danger," Percy said, not bothering to mention that they were the ones who made it so.

"Almost five years ago, in what would have been my seventh year in Hogwarts, my best friend, with the help of the Order and a few of us in an affiliated organization for students," she paused to smile, wondering briefly if she should tell Dumbledore about 'Dumbledore's Army,' but deciding not to, "defeated Voldemort. We won the war."

She was pleased when no one in the room flinched at her use of Voldemort's name.

"However," Percy started uncomfortably, "some things happened, and now all of that is in jeopardy. We're here to make sure time progresses as it should."

"So you really know the future?" Alice asked, amazed. "Why don't you tell us what happens so that we can make it happen now?"

Hermione smacked a closed fist against her forehead and rubbed a spot where a migraine was beginning to form.

Before she could open her mouth to answer the question, Alice retracted it. "Sorry, that was a stupid question. Everyone knows you don't mess with time."

Hermione smiled wryly and exchanged a meaningful glance with Percy, who seemed to be similarly amused. Intelligent wizards and witches all over the world knew this one thing – playing with time was not wise.

"So what's in danger of happening or not happening?" Frank asked.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak and closed it again, looking to Percy for help.

"Well," Percy said uncomfortably. "It's just a matter of ensuring your safety for the next several months. We're just here to keep an eye on things."

"_You're _going to protect _us_?" Sirius asked, skeptically. "You practically disarmed yourself this morning, but you're telling me that _you're_ going to protect _me_?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Sirius, and she tried to remind herself that her Sirius had apologized for his behavior, and that if she killed him now, he'd never grow into the wonderful man she knew. Plus, all her work bringing him back would have been for naught.

"No," Hermione answered, gritting her teeth. "It's not you who's in danger. Not yet, anyway."

"So you know, then?" Sirius pressed. "Be more specific. Who are you protecting and what are you protecting them from?"

Hermione tried to keep in mind her instructions not to mention Harry or Neville and searched Percy's eyes desperately.

"I'll be accompanying Frank on his upcoming mission," Percy said, smoothly.

"What upcoming mission?" Alice immediately asked, turning toward her husband suspiciously. "I didn't know about a mission."

Frank furrowed his eyebrows and looked at Dumbledore, who was doing a great job of not changing his expression.

"Albus only told me about it last night. I hadn't gotten a chance to tell you yet," Frank said slowly. He then turned toward Percy and Hermione, his wife's previous amazement reflected on his own face now. "You really _are _from the future then."

"Is Frank in danger?" Alice asked, turning her attention back to the pair across from them.

"Alice, you know our missions are always dangerous," he said stiffly. "If anything, you should feel better knowing that I'm going to have back-up."

"How long are you going for? What are you doing?" she asked, not placated at all by his answer.

"Alice, perhaps Frank can fill you in later?" Dumbledore suggested, causing the young woman to snap her mouth shut.

"And you?" Sirius asked Hermione, still skeptical of her story. "Who are you going to be 'protecting?'"

"Mr. Black, perhaps that is all we should ask of our visitors for now," Dumbledore said.

Hermione looked at him gratefully, letting her shoulders sag in relief.

"Fine, but don't you think we should administer veritaserum just in case? I don't know why I would give anyone else that amulet, and I'm not convinced she hasn't taken it by force," he said.

Hermione couldn't help but snort. "So first I'm too weak to protect anybody, but now I'm strong enough to take something of yours by force?"

"Hermione," Percy warned, trying to prevent an argument.

"I'm not saying you're strong enough to take anything from me, darling. I'm just saying that I don't keep a running inventory of all the garbage that's in that hole of a house I grew up in. It'd be easy for someone to just slither in like a snake and take it," Sirius said, his nostrils flaring dangerously.

"For someone who claims he doesn't care about his family's belongings, you seem to get awfully riled up when your heirlooms don't listen to you," she countered, ignoring Percy's pleas.

"I don't care about that thing. I just care about it not being in the hands of some useless little girl who could give it to someone who might actually know what to do with it," Sirius growled.

Hermione opened her mouth to bite back, but she was interrupted by creaking from the staircase, and the appearance of a worn young man. "Wha's all the yellin' about?"

Sirius's flaring temper shrank back down to size, and he turned to his friend, putting his arm around him gingerly in support. "Moony, you should be in bed. It's still early."

"I'm fine," Remus replied, keeping his eyes closed for a second with each tired blink. "I just need some water."

"I'll get it," Alice said gently, standing up and going to the kitchen.

Sirius walked Remus over to the empty spot next to Frank, which Alice had occupied. Frank had the good sense to stand up and move, allowing the men more room.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Lupin?" Dumbledore asked softly, as if the argument between Hermione and Sirius hadn't just happened.

"Oh, Professor," Remus said, blinking in surprise. "I didn't know you were coming by today. I'm alright, thanks. I'm just a bit tired."

"Would you like a lemon drop to soothe your throat?" Dumbledore asked cheerfully, presenting a readied one in the palm of his hand.

"Err," Remus said, blinking and staring at Dumbledore's upturned palm. "no, thanks."

Alice returned with the water, and Remus gulped it greedily, before he looked over at Sirius, glancing between him and Percy and Hermione in question.

"Mr. Lupin, since you're doing well, I'd like to introduce you to Percy Weasley and Hermione Granger, our newest members of the Order of the Phoenix," Dumbledore said brightly.

"_Order _members?" Sirius asked, opening his mouth to complain but closing it again when he received negative attention from the Longbottoms and a quieting hand from Dumbledore.

"Nice to meet you," Remus said warmly, stretching out his hand.

Percy took it first and shook it firmly. When it was Hermione's turn, she was relieved to note how warm and gentle it was, just like _her _Remus, and she couldn't help but smile in knowing that she'd still have something familiar and comforting here once Percy left with Frank.

"I think it'd be okay to tell him, too," Hermione blurted out, before she could stop herself.

Percy pursed his lips and looked at her with exasperation but didn't say anything.

Remus returned her smile with a confused smile of his own.

"Great, but first, let's start with some veritaserum to verify their story," Sirius repeated eagerly.

"You make it a habit of interrogating new members? Fine. But let's get some down your throat, too," Hermione countered angrily, before Percy could cut her off.

"Not only will that not be necessary, Mr. Black, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said with amusement, "but I actually think it could be harmful."

Dumbledore stood up, and as if on cue, everyone else, sans Remus, stood up to join him.

"I apologize for this short visit, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, but I'm afraid Hogwarts needs me. I will be back in four days' time for new assignments, but until then, relax and enjoy your time here. I'm sure Mr. Black will be a most gracious host while Mr. Lupin recovers his strength enough to take over his duties as keeper of Awry Place," Dumbledore said, reaching out his hand to shake Percy's, then her own.

This time, she didn't jump on the man, and took his proffered hand graciously. His eyes twinkled like she always remembered, and he gave her a wink, which made her smile.

And with that, she felt a whole lot better about everything. Dumbledore was here, and nothing could go wrong with Dumbledore on their side.

She beamed at Percy, at the still-confused Lupin, and let her eyes dwell over the dissatisfied Sirius.

Or so she _hoped_ nothing could go wrong, anyway.

* * *

**Author's Note**: I have to say that I _love _mean Sirius and catty Hermione. I think it's realistic, under the circumstances. And poor confused Remus and peacemaker Percy just kind of deal with it. Until Percy goes away and Remus recovers his strength, anyway. :)


	6. Day 3 Part One

**Chapter 5: Day 3/180 Part One**

_She was just so, so tired. She just wanted to sleep. Was that too much to ask for? Was it too much to ask for, for her to get just a tiny rest? Just to sit down, even. She would be alright with sitting down. She didn't have to sleep. She just wanted to sit down. If only she could just…_

_ "Quit draggin' yer feet, Granger," the rough man with the deeply Scottish accent spat, shoving into her back like she wasn't even there and continuing to march onward._

_ Her feet caught on his, and she slipped on the loose dirt, tumbling down the steep incline of the cliff's side. She vaguely registered jagged rocks deeply slicing into her delicate flesh like it was butter. She couldn't feel the blood gushing out of her amassing number of gashes, nor could she see the tell-tale red that was coating her increasingly anemic body. She looked up and saw the sky, the pale blue nether, littered with innocent white balls of fluff. And there, peeking out between its fluffy white friends was Mr. Sun, shining brightly down on its little children._

_ 'Well, hello there, Mr. Sun.'_

_ She smiled sleepily and closed her eyes. She would get to rest now. Finally._

_ "No, Granger, you ain't dyin' that easy," barked the gruff voice, and she realized she was no longer spiraling down the side of the cliff toward the water below. Instead, she was levitating in the air._

_ "Huh?" she asked, not registering what exactly was happening._

_ "Get ch'ur shit together, novice. I know you have a tiny bit o' Darwinism somewhere in that weak body o' yours," the voice said again._

_ Hermione blinked up at him, his wand stretched out on the narrow ledge they had been walking down. He levitated her back over to him and dropped her onto the ground like a sack of potatoes. He then took her arm roughly and pulled her onto her feet._

_ She stared at his scarred face, his thick black beard, his enormous brown eyes, his wild raven hair, and begged him to just let her rest. They'd been walking for… well, she didn't know how long they'd been walking. There was no time in this place, in this room. They were in a dimension that wasn't their own, one where birds stayed levitated in the sky, one where she could have landed in the water and flicked apart each individual drop of water like she was playing in a pit of balls. Time was unmoving, and the sun never set._

_ Her body was exhausted. Actually, she didn't know if her body was exhausted. The cuts and bruises she had were halted momentarily after receiving them, the blood that had leaked onto her arm still wet. She didn't understand how this worked, or whether her body was halted the way everything else was, but she knew that her mind didn't function that way. It was tired. She was so, so tired._

_ She stared up at him pathetically, begging him to just let her take a little while, just to sit down._

_ He groaned in frustration at her. "Fine. We're going to break for fifteen seconds. And then we're off again. If you do a good job healing your wounds, I'll give you another fifteen second break in an hour. Got it?"_

_ She furrowed her eyebrows at him, confused._

_ He immediately saw her confusion and laughed at her, walking away._

_ "If you still haven't figured it out yet, Granger, time _never_ stops. And you only have until dusk hits to find that cave, do a thorough curse-breaking, and get the orb, before this all goes to shit and you fail," he said, and paused, turning around with an ironic smile. "And you know what failure means. Tic-toc-tic-toc. Except here, it's more like tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiic-tooooooooooooc."_

_ He laughed heartily, throwing his head backward as his giant body shook with his guffaws. He obviously thought he was hilarious._

_ Hermione got out her wand and sat down gratefully, looking down at the wounds covering her body. She put the tip of her wand to the biggest laceration she saw, which was running up the front of her lower leg, all the way to her knee. She was about to mumble a spell to close it when something caught her attention. She bent forward and peered at the wound. She wasn't sure, but as she waited, she watched in horror as tiny droplets of blood, dozens of them, formed on top of exposed muscle, barely visible, but growing nonetheless._

_ She looked up at the sky and saw that the sun, which had at one point been at 30 degree angle facing East was now at a 30 degree angle to the West._

_ Realization hit her like a ton of bricks, and she made quick work of her wounds, using the knowledge she'd gained from her healer training to her benefit. She took just a split second to close her eyes and breathe deeply, before jumping to her feet again. Time _was _moving. She just hadn't noticed because of how slow it was going. Every tenth of a second seemed like an eternity, but it wasn't._

_ She chased after the man and yelled, "I'm ready. Let's keep going."_

_ He laughed that horrible, knowing laugh of his and flicked his hand forward, leading her on._

She awoke in a cold sweat, wishing she could have dreamed about anything but that. She had never been more terrified in her life up until that point. And when she thought about this, she was forced to remember how quickly things had escalated from there. She didn't know how long she had taken to complete the training, but she knew there was no use in thinking about it, because she would never have an answer. Technically, she had walked out of the Department of Mysteries the next evening as a full-fledged Unspeakable. Less technically, she had spent maybe three-and-a-half weeks training. Even less technically than that, but more pragmatically (or less pragmatically, if her department head was asked), she spent nearly a year living in constant fear of death.

Hermione tried to shake off her nightmare and crawled out of her bed, looking over at Percy, who was moaning in his sleep. She stepped over to him, tying her plaid short-shorts tightly, scratching her right breast beneath her yellow tank top, and she battled with herself on whether or not to wake him, when she heard him moan, "Fred, no. Fred, no."

She stopped the tears from welling up in her eyes, as she knew the memory Percy was reliving. It was one only he had, because Fred was alive and well, not dead as Percy would always remember him to be.

She reached over to shake him awake, but stopped, when his moaning stopped, and a smile spread onto his lips. "Happy Birthday, Freddy, Georgey. I rented you out a pitch for your birthday… No, it wasn't too expensive."

A grin spread across her face. Even in his sleep, he was a liar. He'd spent a fortune to rent out the pitch where the Quidditch World Cup had been held. Hermione knew, because she'd been tasked with helping recruit all of the old Gryffindor team and anyone else who she could get, including Viktor Krum and a few of his teammates, to play with them for their birthday. It had been the first birthday Fred had had since coming back to life. Not that Percy could exactly tell him that.

Hermione stepped backward and away from him, opening the door and tip-toeing out into the hall. She shut the door quietly behind her and listened for any movement.

Nothing.

She walked down the end of the hallway and past a myriad of closed doors, this time taking the time to inspect the walls. Picture frames and paintings littered the walls, starring various members of the Order, mostly the Marauders (James and Sirius, to be specific). She smiled when she saw a particularly amusing picture of Sirius and Lily dancing at what looked like Lily and James's wedding, judging by her beautiful white dress. Sirius was whispering into Lily's ear, and she threw her head back and laughed. Just then, James came charging toward the pair, and he butted Sirius out of the way by ramming him with the side of his hip. Sirius landed on the floor, and James twirled Lily around, lifting her so that she didn't trip over Sirius, and then gracefully stepping over Sirius himself, as if he was a crack in the pavement, a hysterical smile on his face. Lily tried to look at James with disapproval, but she couldn't help her smile, and all three burst into laughter, before the photo repeated from the beginning.

She wondered if she could have this photo for Harry. She didn't know what happened to it back in their time, but she knew that he would appreciate seeing it.

She stepped further down the hall and paused when she saw a stern-looking McGonagall, who looked identical to how she knew the woman, except that she had a few less gray hairs. Slowly, she saw two fingers come up above McGonagall's head, making the bunny ears sign. She couldn't help but giggle at it, as McGonagall seemed to be completely unaware. Slowly, the bunny ears lowered back down, and she saw Sirius's face slowly appear above her head, his face frozen with his eyes wide and his mouth open in a large D-shape. Just as slowly, he lowered his head back down, and the photo repeated itself.

_Oh Merlin_.

"That's – oh, well I suppose you know her as well," said a voice beside her.

Startled, Hermione turned to her side and saw Lupin standing there.

"She was livid when she saw the photo," Lupin said, smiling. "Hasn't let us take a photo of her since."

Hermione giggled and smiled broadly. "I could see that."

Lupin didn't say anything else, just smiled. Hermione admired his expression. He looked less tired than he had that afternoon, probably because he'd gone back to bed after Sirius filled him in on the situation at hand. His blue eyes were glittering in amusement, and his straight white teeth were peeking out behind lips fuller than the ones she was used to. His face lacked wrinkles, and his hair was thick and sandy, wavy like on a beach. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt and plaid bottoms without any shoes or socks. His arms were thicker, more muscular than she thought they'd be, and she wondered if he still had that same muscle mass, hidden underneath the robes she knew him to wear.

When he noticed how her eyes swept over him and paused at his arms, he crossed them in front of his chest and looked slightly uncomfortable. She realized quickly that it was because of the markings on them. He had large, purple bruises covering his arms, and distinguishable bite marks. He had red splotches everywhere, where a botched healing attempt had been made in order to prevent cuts from turning into scars.

She sighed sadly, knowing how self-conscious the man in front of her was about his bruises, and reached out her hand.

He looked at it questioningly.

"Can I see your arms, please?" she asked kindly.

He hesitated, looked like he wanted to ask why, but he didn't. Instead, he slowly uncrossed his arms and stuck them out toward her.

Hermione took his right arm and inspected it, turning it to see the extent of the damage. She stabilized his wrist with her left hand and covered his arm with the right, forming a seal around one of the larger bite marks/bruises. She closed her eyes and concentrated on it, letting her magic flow into the bruise, like she'd been taught during one of her lessons in hell. She mumbled an incantation, repeating it until she felt his skin heat up and then cool back down.

She continued to hold onto his wrist but slowly uncovered where the bruising had been. Underneath now laid perfectly healed skin.

"How did you do that?" he asked, in shock. "You're not even using a wand."

"I can't say, and if anyone asks, I didn't do this," she said, moving her hands up to the next area of concern and repeating the process.

A few minutes later, she was done, and his arms were mostly healed, except for a few spots where the cuts had been particularly deep or existing scars marred his flesh.

She knew she would get in trouble if anyone were to find out she'd shown this magic to someone else. It was Ministry-protected magic, a form unknown to most witches and wizards both because of its complexity and because of its dangers. What she was casting on Remus wasn't a simple healing spell. She was manually reforming the structure of his tissues, down to the cellular level. This sort of magic required in-depth knowledge of both biology and anatomy and physiology. If the caster didn't have said knowledge, gross deformities could occur as a result. Or worse, if the caster knew it too well and was using it for malicious purposes, it could be worse than any Unforgivable. There was a reason not even healers used this magic.

"I'm sorry that I can't get the deeper cuts," she apologized. "I'm afraid I lack the skills necessary."

She still wasn't very good with removing and reforming already present scar tissue or deeper cuts which required accurately closing up the epidermis over fat and muscle. She was scared to not leave enough of a gap or leave too much of one, for fear of causing ischemia and further tissue death.

"I don't know what to say," he said, examining his arms. "Except thank you, I suppose."

His eyes were lit up like a Christmas tree, and the small amount of his teeth she'd seen before were now on full-on display for her. He was happier than she remembered seeing him in a long time, and it warmed her heart.

"You're very welcome," she replied, returning his smile.

Remus appreciated the most simple of things – chocolate and a lack of scars and bruises covering every inch of his body, because sadly, those were things he wasn't used to. She still remembered when Harry got him a new set of robes for his birthday, imported from Italy. He held them in his hands like he was worried they'd disintegrate if he clutched them too hard. Hermione, Harry, Ron, Fred, and George had all gotten him new clothing for every occasion since then, in hopes of getting to see him as happy again.

She liked seeing Remus Lupin happy. It was a rare treat. And getting to see a full-fledged, teeth-baring smile was something she'd _never _seen before. It was breathtaking.

And if she wound up being locked up in Azkaban for the next fifty years for using strictly-controlled magic to heal minor cosmetic defects in the form of small lacerations, it'd have been worth it.

"And just so you know, since you're staying for a bit, you'll eventually get to see Sirius like _that_," Remus said, nodding toward the picture on the wall they'd been looking at before.

Hermione didn't look back over at it and kept her eyes glued to Remus's face.

"I just hope I'll get to see more of _this_," she replied.

"Sorry?" Remus asked, turning back toward her and cocking his head to the side.

"Neeeeeeever mind," she sang out, smiling to herself. "So what are you doing awake?"

"Couldn't sleep," he said, shrugging. "I've been sleeping all day. I'm tired of it."

"I could use a bit of sleep, but I have a feeling that's out the window for the time being," she replied. "So what were your plans?"

"I was going to go downstairs and read. Would you like to join me?" he asked gingerly. "We've a fairly large collection of books here."

"Have you?" she asked, surprised. "In that case, I'd love to."

Remus nodded at her and led her down the stairs. She followed behind him, turning the opposite way of the sitting room she'd been in before, and opening a door at the end of another hallway. When the door opened, she was taken in by the size of the room, which had to have been magically enhanced, as the ceilings were twice as high as the rest of the ground floor, and she knew for a fact there were rooms above this. Floor to ceiling were covered in dark, cherry wood book cases, all completely filled with books. It was incredible. And when she stepped closer to one of the shelves, she saw that they were even organized.

"You like to read as much as I do, I see," Remus remarked, with a smile. "No one else even comes in here besides Lily, and even her jaw didn't drop as far as yours did when she saw it."

Hermione blushed and plucked a random book off the shelf she was standing near and walked back through the door, toward the sitting room. She plopped down on the comfortable, worn sofa and opened the book to the first page, without even reading the title.

"That wasn't meant to be an insult, you know," Remus said quietly, as he followed behind her and sat down on the other end of the sofa, having already had a book picked out. "You can go back and properly choose one."

"I'm fine, thanks," she said, staring at the page, her cheeks still lit up.

"Okay then," Remus said. "I'll make a mental note of your interest in using divination in order to stop dating the wrong men."

Hermione snapped the book shut and looked at the title, contorting her face in disgust. What were the odds?

If Hermione were in a more familiar environment, she would have set fire to this garbage, despite her love of books, but as she was in a different place, in a different time, she shoved it onto the coffee table in front of her, pushing it as far away from her as she could.

"I said we had a large collection. I didn't say it was all _good,"_ Lupin said with a chuckle, handing her a book he'd had sitting beneath the one in his lap. "Try this instead."

She took it with a pout and read the title. It was an old Muggle novel by a bloke named Frank Norris. She recognized the title but hadn't read it before. When she read the insert of _The Octopus_, she was instantly taken in, and she flipped it open eagerly.

"This is much better," she said to Remus, who had already begun to read his book. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," he said, smiling but not looking up. "I don't know how well you know me in the future, but right now, I don't get on well with a lot of people. Most stay away from me. But my track record with people who like to read is above average, so I got a bit over-excited when I saw that you appreciate a good private library as well. I didn't mean to tease you."

She paused in the middle of flipping pages and looked at him out of the corner of her eye, blushing. "I know. I guess I'm a little sensitive – used to people making fun of me for reading."

"Well, as you had the displeasure of seeing last night, I'm not most people," Remus said, still not looking up from his book, though she could see his eyes were stationary, frozen in the direction of the wooden floors beneath the sofa instead of darting back and forth over the words written on paper.

"No," she agreed. "Most people aren't as strong, as intelligent, as brave, as selfless, or nearly as kind."

She saw the blush creep across his fair skin, even in the dimly-lit room, and she counted this a victory for herself, as he'd made her blush multiple times now without even trying. And he couldn't even argue it, as he admitted himself that he didn't know how well she did or didn't know him, but she'd said it with enough conviction for him to believe her words true, at least to her.

"As good of an impression as I must have made on you throughout the years, you know that's not what I meant," he said quietly.

"Yes, I'd gathered as much," she said bravely, "but I don't care about your 'furry little problem.'"

Remus's book fell out of his lap as he turned to look at her. "I know you're probably tired of hearing this, but… _wow. _You really must be from the future. Because no one but James calls it that, and he only does so in specific company."

Hermione smiled mischievously but didn't say anything. She especially didn't want to fess up to the fact that she hadn't heard _James_ say it, as she'd be meeting the man for the first time tomorrow. She merely smiled on, as Remus stared at her in wonderment.

"But honestly, I think you're all a bit nutty - _daft_ really - for underestimating this and still being willing to be around me," he said, self-deprecatingly. "I'm dangerous."

She smiled sadly at him. "Remus, last night wasn't the first time I've seen you like that, and I wasn't particularly afraid either time. So if I'm not afraid of you when you're transformed, why would I be afraid of you when you aren't?"

He looked at her incredulously, gazing into her eyes as if expecting to see loose screws in her head.

"I could use your help for something though," she said, making up her mind that a little bending of the rules wouldn't do too much harm, especially as she'd already done so multiple times in the day she'd been here. "D'you know if any aconite flowers nearby?"

"Aconite? As in, monkshood?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Aconite, monkshood, wolf's bane, whatever you want to call it," she said, nodding affirmative.

"Actually, I think I saw some on a walk the other day," he said, scratching his head. "Why? Brewing a poison? Planning on killing Sirius? Because I feel like I should object to that."

"My intentions are noble," she assured him, smiling as she flipped open her book and began to read.

"If you say so," he said, picking his fallen book back up and turning back around to lean back against the back of the sofa. "Just remember all those things you said about me earlier, as you're doing these 'noble' things. Feel free to continue focusing any repressed rage on Sirius."

She grinned, and was pleased to note, out of the corner of her eye, that her expression was mirrored on his face.

* * *

**Author's Note**: So, we got to see some more of Hermione's life as an Unspeakable but ended on a lighter note with a bit of fluffiness between Remus and Hermione! I'm rather pleased with the interaction. Anyone else notice Hermione's instant attraction? If only Remus had caught on a bit quicker. Haha. I promise Sirius is going to come around, by the way. I love him too much to have him stay an arse forever.


	7. Day 3 Part Two

**Chapter 6: Day 3/180 Part Two**

The room radiated warmth, laughter echoing off the walls of the kitchen, which she'd quickly learned was the gathering place of choice for the young wizards and witches who took up temporary residence in this large cottage in the northern part of the UK, which doubled as a safe haven and the current headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.

In the room at the moment were Sirius Black and James Potter, who were standing arm-in-arm, as if they were the ones who had just come back from _their_ honeymoon, Remus Lupin who wasn't standing too far from his fellow Marauders, Marlene McKinnon who had hooked arms with Lily Potter, and of course, Percy and Hermione, who were relieved at the safe return of the Potters.

Hermione didn't know what she had expected upon the arrival of James and Lily, but she supposed that she had prepared herself for some degree of suspicion from the two. Instead, Lily had greeted Hermione warmly, enveloping her in a hug that rivaled Molly Weasley's, without even asking her who she was or how she got there. James, upon being told by Sirius that Percy and Hermione were new members of the Order and trusted old allies of Professor Dumbledore's, immediately donned a bright smile and greeted them with pleasure. He hadn't hesitated when he said that any friends of Dumbledore's were friends of his.

It appeared that James shared his son's unwavering faith in the elder wizard, and she appreciated it for a few reasons, the biggest of which was that it meant she didn't have to explain anything about her lack _of _explanation or patronize him with a cover story.

"Keep in mind that we were in a Muggle town," Lily said, tearing up.

"Hey, it's not very nice to make fun of my ignorance," James declared loudly, as if this was an argument for him instead of against him, and it caused everyone to laugh even harder.

"So, then he walks up to the electrical outlet, bends down to it, and shouts, 'show yourself! Are you a goblin? A trapped witch or wizard? A house-elf?' The barkeep, bless his heart, just reached out his hand, as coyly as he could, and slowly pulled James's drink away from him and set it behind the counter," Lily elaborated.

"What would any of you think," James accused, through slit eyes, "if you were in a _Muggle _town, you walked into a pub, and a bloke was operating all of these spinning blades which crushed ice and cut food, and he wasn't even using magic?"

"They're called 'blenders,' and I explained that they're run by electricity," Lily teased. "There _is _no little witch or wizard in the outlet using magic to operate it. How do you think Muggles cook food and make drinks?" Lily reminded. "You've seen my mum use electricity before."

"Well, I just wanted to make sure that there wasn't a magical creature enslaved in there," James huffed in indignation, puffing his chest out nobly. "But that bloke – he thought I was knackered."

"More like drunk," Lily corrected, bursting into an infectious fit of giggles which captured the attention of the entire rest of the room.

"Seriously," James said again, laughter shining through his own eyes, despite the fact that he was trying to sound serious. "What would any of _you _think?"

"Actually, I'm Muggleborn," Hermione piped in, with a smile.

"Really?" Lily asked, beaming at Hermione. "So am I!"

"Well, fine then." James said, trying his best to appear annoyed. "You hens do your clucking about me, _without _me. I've business to attend to anyway."

"'Hens?'" Lily challenged, narrowing her eyes at him.

"I was talking about Remus and Sirius," James amended, exchanging an amused expression with the two men in question.

"Better have been," Lily teased. "So what business have _you _to do anyway?"

"Manly business," James said in a deep voice, pushing out his chest and raising his chin up.

"The manliest," Sirius added in, grabbing James by the shoulder and slowly backing them toward the door.

The rest of the group looked to Remus for further clarification.

"Apparently, we're doing something which requires the Y-chromosome," Remus answered, shrugging apologetically as James latched onto Remus, as Sirius pulled them both toward the archway leading out of the room.

"You should come, too, Percy," James offered, as Sirius quickly tugged his friends out of the door and made a mad dash for the front door.

"I suppose I'll see you ladies later?" Percy questioned, bowing his head at the women in the room, and following the others out the door.

"Have fun, Perce," Hermione called, smiling as she took a seat at the table across from Lily and Marlene.

"So, since they're off talking about all the sex you've had, we should do the same," Marlene said, her eyes glimmering with glee.

"_Marley_," Lily chastised, trying to hide the smile that was threatening to spill onto her lips, ruining her façade of innocence. "We have a guest."

"Don't mind me," Hermione said, giggling.

"See?!" Marlene exclaimed. "Hermione doesn't mind."

Hermione continued smiling as Marlene extended her fist to Hermione and bumped it in a display of solidarity. Hermione was happy at how short of a time it had taken everyone to warm up to her. She supposed part of it had to do with the strength of Dumbledore's word, vouching for her, and she supposed the other part of it was the eagerness to believe that there _were _still trustworthy witches and wizards out there.

Hermione knew what it felt like to be alone, to only have one person to depend on. She had gone through it twice, once with Harry when even Ron had abandoned them, and once with Percy, when everyone else's memories were changed, but theirs stayed the same. At other times, she had more people in her life, wonderful, kind, warm people – people like Sirius and the Weasleys – but it still wasn't enough. She felt like the rest of the world was constantly making new connections, and she was forced to stay stagnant in their tiny little bubble of trust. It wasn't to say that she didn't find a best friend in Ginny or a love in Ron, but… she could definitely relate to wanting to expand her circle a bit.

All humans were social creatures, and wizards and witches were no exception.

"James is so incredible," Lily suddenly gushed. "I mean, _Spain_ was incredible."

"Sure," Marlene said, snickering. "Tell us about James – err, I mean '_Spain_.'"

Hermione covered her mouth in an attempt to suppress her giggles.

"So I thought we were going to stay at a hotel, which would have been fine with me, but James got one over on me. He apparated us to a cottage he'd rented right on the beach. It was in this cute, unknown sort of area, right between a wizarding community and a Muggle city," Lily continued. "You should have seen the water. It was this blue-green color, and I swear, you could see straight down to the bottom even off the coast."

"That sounds lovely," Marlene replied, putting her elbows on the table and placing her head in her hands.

"Oh, it was," Lily said dreamily. "James let me pick what we did every day. He'd always have things for me to choose from, and I think he made it a point to include Muggle things, because he knows how disappointed I was when not all of my family could come to the wedding because of Ministry rules."

"Who would have thought that that prick, little Potter boy could turn into a considerate man?" Marlene asked, laughing.

"Not me," Lily replied honestly, laughing as well. "I'm thankful he wore me down until I finally gave into his advances, though."

"That makes it sound horrible," Marlene said, and both women continued laughing.

"What about you, Hermione? Are you seeing anyone?" Lily asked, fixating her gaze on the older woman.

"She's with the ginger bloke," Marlene said, turning to her. "Aren't you? That's what Sirius said."

Hermione narrowed her eyes and frowned. "And how would he know that?"

"I guess not then?" Marlene asked, turning back to Lily. "Sirius has been a real arse to her since she arrived. He actually cursed her when they first met - knocked her out cold."

Lily gasped, appearing shocked. "_Sirius_ did?"

Marlene nodded solemnly.

"To be fair, he didn't know who I was, and I was on the premises. I probably would've done the same thing," Hermione said, gritting her teeth, unsure of why she was defending the man. "Granted I would've given them the chance to speak instead of knocking out someone who didn't even have a wand in her hand, but… you know."

"I'm going to have a word with him when the boys get back," Lily said, pursing her lips. "Sirius used to be a real wanker when he was younger, like James, but he hasn't been outright _cruel_ to anyone in years. I wonder what's gotten into him."

"I'm not sure," Marlene said, shrugging uncomfortably.

"It's alright, really," Hermione said, not wanting to cause tension between the group.

"It's not," Lily said firmly. "Especially since Marley and I are constantly surrounded by these troublesome man-boys in our lives. I will _not _have them chase away a decent girl."

Hermione couldn't help but smile at Lily's words. She was kind and funny, and Hermione couldn't wait to get back to Harry and tell him all about the affection she felt for his mother.

"Remus has been nice," Hermione said. "I couldn't sleep last night, and he kept me company. He gave me a book and let me sit with him while we read."

Hermione wasn't sure, but she thought she saw a meaningful glance pass between Lily and Marlene, who looked at each other at the same time for a split second before turning back to Hermione.

"Remus probably appreciates that you read with him," Lily said slowly, carefully. "He's usually a bit skittish when it comes to meeting new people."

"A bit?" Marlene asked, scoffing.

"He's been very kind to me," Hermione said, defensively.

"I love Remus like a brother," Lily quickly said. "I'd never say a bad thing about him. I'd rather die. _However_, it's not easy for him to open up to people. I think if he did, he'd have an easier time making friends. He's easy to get along with, but he doesn't know it."

Hermione nodded in understanding. She could agree with that notion. "I can see why he'd be hesitant to trust people. I've been very fortunate in my life to be mostly surrounded with people who don't think I'm lesser because I'm Muggleborn, but… I've also had certain fascists show immeasurable cruelty to me. And being a Muggleborn is widely accepted now, whereas being a werewolf is still something of a taboo thing, unfortunately."

Lily nodded sadly. "I've experienced severe prejudice as well, even from someone who I once considered my best friend."

Hermione knew Lily was talking about Snape, and she wished she could tell the woman that Snape sacrificed his entire life to make amends, but she knew she couldn't, so she nodded silently.

"But you're right, of course," Lily continued. "It really is nothing compared to what Remus has to live with, both in society and because of the pain associated with his affliction."

"Not even everyone in the Order is comfortable with it either," Marlene said quietly, exchanging a glance with Lily.

"Remus deserves better than that," Hermione said, angrily. "He didn't choose the lycanthropy, and to treat him differently because of it is ignorant. And it makes me angry."

"You sound like Sirius and James," Lily said with a smile. "It makes me even more surprised that you and Sirius don't get on."

"It's not her fault," Marlene defended. "The only thing I can think of is that with how tense things have been lately, maybe he just needed an outlet."

"That doesn't justify any of what you've told me he's done," Lily argued, frowning again.

"Hey, I'm not trying to justify his behavior. He's being a right tosser. I'm just trying to brain storm an explanation."

"It really _is _okay," Hermione pleaded. "I probably haven't helped the situation along either by losing my temper with him."

Lily frowned, not satisfied. "I'm going to have a talk with James about it later, and there's nothing you can say to change my mind, so don't bother trying."

Hermione breathed out deeply. "Alright. Can I ask you a question that might be out of line, seeing as you don't know me that well?"

Marlene and Lily exchanged another look before they both nodded, smiling.

"That," Hermione said. "Just like that, you guys shared an odd look when I said that Remus kept me company. Why is that?"

"Why do you want to know?" Marlene immediately shot back, a devious smirk on her pretty painted lips. She was twirling her blonde hair between her polished fingers and looking too keen on a reply from Hermione.

Hermione blushed, wondering how it was that things were turned back around on her so quickly. "I was just… wondering?"

Marlene and Lily looked at each other and giggled.

"C'mon, Marley," Lily reprimanded, half-heartedly. "Be nice."

"I'm _always_ nice, Lils," Marlene shot back, with a not-so-innocent looking glint in her blue eyes.

"We were just surprised that Remus was comfortable with you," Lily said, ignoring her friend. "And surprised that you seemed so comfortable with him."

"If I'm to be honest, I was immediately taken with Remus, from the warmth of his handshake to the genuine way he smiles - like he's smiling because he's happy to be speaking with you instead of smiling because it's the socially acceptable thing to do. He's not conventional. He's honest and authentically nice. He's a very comfortable person to be around," Hermione babbled, her cheeks still tinged red.

"He's not bad on the eyes either, is he?" Marlene asked, slyly.

"_Marley_!" Lily gasped, in mock shock at her friend's words. "Aren't you with Sirius?"

Hermione's eyes widened as she looked at the blonde woman. She wouldn't be surprised. These two would fit well together. She was obviously intelligent, a bit mischievous, a spitfire, and unfairly beautiful with thick blonde hair, pouty lips, and a bone structure and facial symmetry that rivaled his.

"I'm not _with_ Sirius," Marley said, smirking. "I'm _sometimes _with Sirius, just like I'm _sometimes_ with other men, and he's _sometimes_ with other women."

Hermione nearly spat up the tea she'd been drinking but tried to hide her coughing fit as best as she could.

"Please excuse her," Lily said, rolling her eyes. "Modesty isn't a word Marlene's familiar with."

"Oh, I'm familiar with it. I saw it in the antonym bit underneath immodesty, when I was rewriting the definition for _that _word," Marlene answered with a cocky grin.

Hermione chuckled, enjoying the company of the women in front of her. She'd never really had girl friends like this before. It'd taken her years to befriend Ginny, and she'd never really made another girl friend like her. The closest had been Angelina Johnson, but that seemed to be due to both of their proximities to the Weasley family, not genuine understanding and mutual interests. It was a friendship of convenience, not that she didn't like Angelina.

"Anyhow, we were talking about Remus and how good-looking he is," Marlene said, resting her chin on her closed fist. "You can say it, you know, Hermione. You wouldn't be the first."

Hermione blushed again. "Well, no. Of _course_ I wouldn't be the first if I did say it."

"Remus has always had suitors," Marlene admitted. "I think people see him as the sensitive intellectual character. He, James, and Sirius were quite popular at Hogwarts, where we went to school. There's a fourth person in their group, who you haven't met yet. His name is Peter, but… he's not too great on the eyes."

"_Marlene_," Lily said, frowning. "All three will have your head if they overhear you talking badly about Peter."

"I know," Marlene said, disinterestedly. "But it's not just his looks that are awful. He just doesn't _fit_."

"He's our friend," Lily argued.

"_Your _friend - not _mine_. But that's neither here nor there," Marlene said, clearly disagreeing with Lily's stance on Peter but unwilling to change the subject again so easily. "What I was trying to tell you, _Hermione_, before Lily so _rudely_ interrupted, is that James, Sirius, and Remus were quite popular with everyone, especially the witches. Sirius is, well, you've seen Sirius. He's incredibly handsome, but he's also quite charismatic normally. James isn't quite as smooth, but he's a bit louder, a bit funnier, and he puts one hundred percent into everything he does. Doesn't give up, that bloke. Then you've got Remus, who's more level-headed than the other two combined, and while I wouldn't say he's necessarily smarter than the others, because all three were tied for top-of-the-class, he tends to use his knowledge more wisely. He also tends to be less obnoxious."

Hermione could see that. From what she'd learned about James, it seemed that, while Harry was the spitting image of him, their personalities had quite a few dissimilarities, the primary one being how loud James was and how quiet Harry was. Not giving up and trying hard was just about the only thing the two had in common, from what she could see, but she was willing to bet that over her months here, she'd undoubtedly see more similarities and differences between the two, all of which she'd relate back to Harry with joy.

"Remus had his share of girls who fancied him," Marlene continued, "and if I'm to be honest, I don't think he's as ignorant about it as he pretends to be."

"I think he knew, too," Lily said, frowning. "I think pretending he didn't know gave him a way to avoid confrontation."

"I think there was really only one girl he was ever involved with seriously," Marlene said bitterly. "And she proved him right about his fears of not telling people about his affliction."

"Bitch," Lily spat bitterly, and Hermione was surprised to hear the nasty word come out of the petite redhead woman's mouth. For some reason, she couldn't picture Lily Potter as saying something like that, but if she was correctly inferring the implication, it wasn't an inaccurate word.

"So he opened up to someone and got scorned?" Hermione asked, frowning. That explained a lot. "Poor guy."

"But _you _seem awfully cozy with him, even though you just met him, even though you saw his transformation first-hand," Marlene said again, smiling clandestinely. "And you seem to have found a way to make him feel comfortable as well."

Hermione blushed again, as Lily swatted her friend playfully.

"Just admit it," Marlene said, raising a challenging eyebrow. "Admit you think Remus is handsome. That's not even an admission of anything, as Lily and I would both admit the same thing, because it's true."

Hermione looked at Marlene and couldn't back down from the challenge. She'd be lying if she said she didn't think it. She thought it in her time, too. He was her first schoolgirl crush, despite how ragged and worn he'd first appeared to her. The warmth and gentility in his eyes captivated her immediately.

"_Fine_. Remus is a very attractive man," Hermione admitted.

"_Ha_," Marlene said, smiling in satisfaction at Lily. "I just asked you to say he's aesthetically pleasing, but you've just admitted that he's 'very attractive' to you."

Hermione opened and closed her mouth like a fish, unable to understand what sort of trap she had fallen into. She didn't even understand the difference in the two.

"Well, I'm attracted to all men I find attractive. To me, being attractive isn't based solely on physical traits. It takes some level of charisma and personality into account," Hermione quickly stammered.

"This is getting better and better," Marlene said, excitedly. "You know, most women don't share that point-of-view. I can have a shag with someone I find physically attractive even if I wouldn't talk to them, let alone date them afterward. If you're attracted to Remus for more than just his aesthetics, barely after meeting him, then this bodes well."

"Bodes well for what?" Hermione asked, panicked.

"Oh Merlin, she's actually right for once," Lily gasped, in mock shock, as Marlene slapped her shoulder in indignation. "You actually _do _fancy Remus."

"I… _what_?" Hermione squeaked. Were these women in her brain, pulling things out of there she wasn't even aware of herself?

"_Well_," Marlene continued, as if Hermione hadn't interjected at all. "_If _you _did _fancy Remus, that'd be a good thing."

"I really don't think it would be," Hermione replied, unsure of why she was even entertaining this idea.

"And why's that?" Marlene asked suspiciously.

"Because I'm only here in passing," Hermione answered hesitantly. "I'll have to leave eventually."

"Leave where?" Marlene pressed, and Hermione was beginning to think more and more that this woman had a bit _too _much in common with Sirius.

"Back home," Hermione answered, and kept speaking before Marlene had the chance to ask her where. "I've been asked here to help the Order, but once I'm no longer needed, I have a life and friends to return to."

Marlene opened her mouth to question Hermione further, but Lily shoved her in the side and spoke before she could. "We can understand that. If the Headmaster asked me to go somewhere for him, I would go, but I'd miss everyone here."

"Thank you for understanding," Hermione sighed in relief.

"_However_," Lily continued, "I'm married. If I hadn't yet found the love of my life, and I went somewhere where I met new people who became my family, or I met the love of my life, I wouldn't rule out the idea of calling that new place home. Nothing is set in stone. You and I know that best of all. We gave up an entire world for this one."

Hermione nodded solemnly, a wry smile on her face. Lily was right. Nothing _was _set in stone. However, Hermione was trying to set it so it was, and in order to do that, it was imperative that she leave. And this served as a cold reminder that she shouldn't get too attached to anyone. Not the vibrant women sitting in front of her, not her beloved hero who was alive for the last time, not her best friends' families, not that wanker who she still secretly hoped would cut her a break, and not her former Defense professor, no matter how warm and compassionate and _sad _he was. Anything that happened here had the potential to change the future or affect her current relationships in her time. And she was going to be damned if she was further going to mess anything up.


	8. Day 7

**Chapter 7: Day 7/180**

"I wonder what happens to this place," she mused, sitting on a luscious patch of grass, surrounded by brightly blooming flowers and seasonal vegetables.

"I've been wondering that, too. I've never been here," he answered. "It _is_ beautiful though, isn't it?"

"Yeah," she replied simply, stretching her legs out.

It really was. The 'cottage' they were in looked quaint and innocent from the outside, as if it had maybe one room inside, a place where a couple might escape from the city for a weekend, although inside it was much larger. Outside the cottage was a garden which was well-tended to, although she had yet to ask by whom, and on all sides, it was surrounded by a dense forest. During the day, it was relaxing to sit out here, in the garden, and bask in the sun. All that was missing was woodland creatures, but she remembered that Sirius had said that even most creatures were warded off by the protective spells on the premises.

And yet in her time, she'd never been there, nor had this place ever been mentioned. She knew from experience that even the most protected places weren't impenetrable – like the Potters' residence, like Grimmauld Place, like Hogwarts.

She frowned, not liking that something was going to happen to this beautiful, serene safe haven for the Order.

"You know, periodically headquarters just change. The Burrow wasn't torn to bits, but we no longer meet _there_," Percy said, putting his arm around Hermione and pulling her into a comforting embrace.

She smiled sadly, knowing that he sensed her downcast mood and was trying to cheer her up, even if he probably didn't believe his words to be true himself. Still, she appreciated his attempts to make her feel better, and it reminded her how far he'd come. He was kind and generous and _funny_, not that his brothers believed him capable of it. It wasn't a side of him they got to see often.

Percy Weasley, after joining them in the final battle, and especially after watching his younger brother die, was racked with guilt for having ever betrayed his family, and felt personally responsible for his death, even if he wasn't at fault whatsoever. He became even more withdrawn, and his family began to worry for him, especially when he joined the Department of Mysteries. The Golden Trio knew what the place held, and they worried for the sanity of any wizard who was already mentally unstable and then forced to work down there.

Hermione, motivated to do challenging work, was drawn to the Department of Mysteries herself, and she was recruited right after the war. When she realized she'd been working with Percy, she was somewhat nervous about it.

After her training was complete, Hermione felt like a broken person, and she still remembered stepping out of the rift in time after finally finding her way back.

_She collapsed onto the icy floor, her hair greasy and unwashed, her clothes smelling of stale pipe smoke. She'd been stumbling through time for nearly eight months now, trying to find her way to the last expert in time. She'd thought it'd be easy, as time-turners and ancient magic were at her disposal for navigating the realms. She thought for sure that the hardest part would be not changing the timeline, but the hardest part turned out to be navigating the timeline itself and finding someone who had more experience than she in doing that, someone who didn't want to be found_

_ The people of different times were one thing. They looked at her clothing funny, judged her, were hostile, were suspicious, were everything she'd expected them to be in their ignorance. The timeline itself was another. She'd nearly been _literally_ torn into pieces by an unseen force which was trying to prevent her from going through time. She was pushed and shoved and had almost become trapped in the nether, a limbo between life and death, a plane outside of their world, a place she'd learned was the same place as what was behind the veil Sirius had fallen into._

_ She didn't know how she was expected to find this man, Edward Witlingham, when he wasn't in the time he was supposed to be. She had a navigational spell she'd been taught during her training with The Scot, but the spell played tricks on her when in the nether realm, led her astray._

_ She'd finally found Edward Witlingham in the Victorian era, where he was posing as a noble. He was a wizard who looked to be somewhere between fifty and three hundred years old, and he reminded her of Dumbledore so much that it was frightening, even if his appearance was completely different – he had green eyes, salt-and-pepper hair that reached the top of his shoulders and was styled to the period, and he had an affinity for smoking a pipe. He recognized her immediately and looked amused to see her._

_ He'd gladly imparted his knowledge on her and trained her over the course of several weeks, and then sent her on her merry way back._

_ Or that's how her worn mind chose to remember it, anyway. Ed was wonderful – that much she didn't have to lie about. However, the training was horrible. Hermione had learned that there _was _a superior force controlling the world. Only, it wasn't a deity like in so many Muggle religions. It was a force that thrived on homeostasis, a sort of mist that consumed anything that threatened the balance, a Keeper of Time._

_ In the last conversation that Hermione had ever had with Ed, he asked her what she sought to change, and she looked at him, unsure of what he was talking about, when he quickly shook his head, and didn't say anything more. He coyly told her that the timeline _should not_ be changed, but that if it _were _to be, the Keeper would chase after the culprit, seeking to restore things back to balance, that time, like lives, were give-and-taken. He told her that all those school kids using time-turners were wasting their time worrying about it, because they couldn't change things even if they wanted to. The magic of a time-turner was too weak to allow for a change that the Keeper wouldn't immediately correct._

_ Lastly, he told her that a change in the timeline could be attempted with powerful magic and could replace the current timeline, if it was a balanced change and if the culprit was powerful enough. He told her this was attempted twice that he knew of, in his research, and that the first person failed. The second, he didn't elaborate on. But he did say that the time it took for the timeline to settle into place, and for the vengeful keeper to grow complacent again, was roughly three years._

_ With those last words, he'd booted her back into her own time, where she was in desperate need of a shower._

_ The trip back through the rift had taken days, even though she was expressly shown the way by the master, who politely told her not to come find him again, and when she fell through, she didn't even have the energy to look up._

_ Shivering and cold, on the floor, she saw a man kneel before her and offer her a hand. When she looked up (and she noted that _this time_, she was actually able to look around and see the vast room which served as the main room of the Department of Mysteries), she met the sympathetic gaze of Percy Weasley._

_ "Pass through the seventies and hang out with some feminists, Granger?" he asked her, when she took his hand._

_ "Are you making fun of me?" she asked, unable to stop the smile from spilling onto her lips._

_ "No," Percy said smartly. "My brothers will vouch for the fact that I can't make jokes."_

_ She giggled slightly, and let him lead her to the in-department living/hygiene areas, where her first order of business was a shower and a shave._

"You know, your brothers would have a fit if they knew you were calling this place beautiful," she teased, smiling fondly at him.

"They'd probably expect me to say something like, 'admiring nature is a waste of your time. It's trees and grass and the sky, none of which are of any interest to me,'" he said, in his most strict-sounding voice. "Which I probably would have said at seventeen. Except using more elitist diction and sneering at them in condescension."

"It only took you nine years to grow an appreciation for trees," she teased again. "Congratulations, you are now at the developmental level of a toddler."

"Hey, you," he said, in mock anger, tickling her.

She giggled in his arms and struggled to break loose from him, until he finally let up and pulled her between his legs, kissing the side of her head and resting his arms around her stomach.

She leaned back into his chest and listened to his steady heartbeat.

"I think I'm a bit more developed than a toddler," he said, nuzzling her neck. "Nature isn't the only thing I find beautiful."

"What else?" she asked, her breath catching in her throat, as he placed a tender kiss on her neck.

"You're beautiful," he answered easily, his warm breath on her neck causing goosebumps to raise on her skin.

"And I know you definitely _are _a man," she replied, twisting around in his arms, barely having the time to prepare for his lips crashing onto hers.

His arms tightened around her slim waist, and her arms wrapped around his upper back, her hands finding his signature Weasley hair as he explored her mouth.

After a few seconds of languid kisses, they broke apart, and she met his stormy eyes.

"I hate that you're going," she admitted.

"I'll be back soon," he reassured. "Dumbledore said it shouldn't take any longer than three months."

She pursed her lips skeptically, and tugged him closer to her, burying her face in the collar of his shirt.

"Tell me something honestly," she pleaded. "You're not going to do something stupid, are you?"

"I made you a promise," he soothed, rubbing the small of her waist.

"Alright," she said, not convinced. "I'm going to hold you to it then."

"As you should," he agreed. "I just wish we weren't leaving so soon."

"Me, too," she groaned. "But I guess it can't be helped. Reconnaissance work isn't convenient. You have to jump on that source before he disappears, and forever lose the opportunity to find the Deatheater camps in South America."

"I'm just surprised You-Know-Who's reach has extended all the way to South America so soon. This wasn't in any textbook I ever studied in school," he said, pulling away from her and looking off into the forest.

He was worried, even though he was trying his best to hide it. She would be if she was in his shoes, too. The Dark Lord's reach was either extended this far this early into his reign all along, and a government that wanted to keep its people in the dark destroyed evidence of it (which was a distinct possibility, based on how the Ministry behaved in the past), _or _their interference in the timeline had shifted things. Either way, there were quite a few unknowns which made Percy's primary purpose in being back in time terribly difficult.

"Well, you had The Scot train you, so... you could survive just about anything," she mused. "Plus, I heard that Frank Longbottom wasn't too shabby of an Auror back in his day - errr, _now_, I suppose - so you should be alright. Besides, you probably couldn't do more research on the subject even if you weren't leaving tonight."

"That's not why I wish we weren't leaving so soon," he quickly said, regaining his composure and smiling in his trademark Percy way, which reeked of confidence.

"Why then?" she asked, cocking her head. "Sooner you go, the sooner you get it done, the sooner you get back."

"If I didn't have to go have another tactical briefing with Dumbledore and pack some things right now, you can bet that I wouldn't have stopped at a kiss," Percy said, moving his hands toward her bum and squeezing it, as he gently thrust up into her crotch.

"Oooh," she said, in understanding, as she felt his hardness against her.

"I wouldn't have minded something to tide me over, but I'll cope," he said with another smirk, kissing the tip of her nose, before he lifted her off his lap and stood up, offering her a hand.

She took it and let him pull her up.

She was prepared to walk back into the house, but he held onto her hand and pulled her back, wrapping his arms around her, enveloping her in another bear hug. She felt the urgency in it, and she returned his squeeze, still worried that he'd try to sacrifice himself so that _it _wouldn't get Hermione, or worse, restore the timeline to what it was.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too," she replied softly.

He took a deep breath in, and a noise squeaked out of his mouth, but he paused, the air caught in his throat, and released it again, sighing and shaking his head. He squeezed her tighter. "_No_, Hermione, I _love _you."

Hermione went limp in his arms and blinked rapidly, feeling suddenly flushed, goosebumps spreading from her head down her arms and torso, all the way down to legs.

"I- umm..." she trailed off, unsure of how to respond.

Percy had been such a valuable friend to her, and he had been there to comfort her when times were rough, but she had always thought that the comfort and sort of love they shared was mutual, similar in what it included and didn't include. She had loved him, certainly, but it had never extended to the sort of love she had once upon a time felt for his brother, and she didn't think it ever could, partially because _of _his brother, not that she would _ever _lay that sort of blame on Ron, who would rather die than cause any sort of misery for his friends or family.

She didn't know what to say, surprised on some level, not surprised on another, and feeling thoroughly ashamed and guilty for the latter.

"It's okay," he said finally, letting her go, and kissing her forehead. "I need to go."

"Okay," she said, nodding, and he left her out in the garden, to think about his confession.

**Author's Note**: And there we have the important and long overdue confession from Percy. I hope you're all happy to finally have some reassurance that there won't be a romance between them!


	9. Day 15

**Chapter 8: Day 15/180**

"Stay back, and don't get in the way," he demanded brusquely, pushing ahead through the densely forested area, flicking his wand in side-to-side motions, slicing through the pine trees and trudging through the snow.

"'Don't get in the...' hmph," she snorted indignantly, her knuckles becoming white from the force of which she was gripping her wand.

Hermione flicked her wand and muttered a tripping jinx under her breath, and Sirius immediately fell face first into the snow. He extended his arms out to catch himself, but the charm they'd used on their feet to stop them from digging too deep into the snow did just that - protected their feet, not their hands - and he slid shoulder deep into the snow.

Hermione cackled maniacally, not even bothering to mask her laughter and feign innocence.

Sirius pulled himself out of the snow, shaking white clumps out of the openings of his thick robes. He turned toward her with a hard look and pulled his wand on her, pissed off, and intent on getting revenge.

"Knock it off, you two," said the third member of their trio, shouldering between them and continuing to walk on. "Especially you, Pads, or Lily will have _both_ our heads."

Hermione smirked at Sirius in satisfaction and followed James. She was still looking back at Sirius, who had used his outstretched wand hand to dry his sleeves, which were already beginning to ice over. She was too busy grinning at his misery to notice that James had stopped, and she nearly crashed into him.

He abruptly turned around and sighed. "I'm shit at navigational stuff. Do either of you know where we're going?"

They had apparated to the settlement of Ny-Ålesund, Spitsbergen in the Svalbard archipelago, and had promptly started to head Northeast, as their source had instructed, but while it had been cold near the settlement, night had begun to settle in on them, dropping temperatures further, and what had been a light sprinkling of snow on the ground in the community had turned into a thick, unfriendly layer the further they walked from civilization. And that was putting it lightly. Their protective charms and barriers were barely keeping out the wrath of mother nature, and the fatigue associated with walking for a few hours in less-than-favorable conditions was weakening them by the second.

"I have no idea, mate. Dumbledore said they would be somewhere here, and this island is only so big, so I assume we _have _to be getting close," Sirius said, skeptically.

A witch by the name of Matilda Haverford had been kidnapped after introducing a protective bill for Muggleborns to the Ministry, even if the research she'd done was initially commissioned to find out how they obtained their powers without close relatives who possessed magic. When Hermione had found out such a law was being introduced, she felt deeply uncomfortable, and when she had locked eyes with Percy, he had a similar reaction. This was another of the changes they had made to the timeline. With something like this passed twenty years ago, Umbridge never would have been able to round up Muggleborns like both of them remembered. She supposed that it was a good thing, but regardless of this, it was still shocking to her how far-reaching their changes to the timeline were and how said changes were implemented without her having even realized.

Nevertheless, Miss Haverford, who was a Muggleborn witch and a graduate of Hogwarts herself (where she was top-of-the-class and had been Head Girl), had made enemies with many of the aristocratic members in the Ministry, including some darker figures, who were clearly siding with Voldemort. They saw her as a threat to their new order, and before she could present her argument, including research into the biological aspects of magic and how gene mutations could cause two Muggles to give birth to a child who possessed magic and two purebloods to give birth to a squib, she had disappeared. This had happened nearly two weeks ago, and Dumbledore, through a spy, had received a tip that they were keeping the witch hostage in the remote Norwegian island.

Because of the remote location, they were tipped off that only a few Deatheaters were guarding her. The source had said he only knew of three members whose disappearances had coincided with the kidnapping but couldn't be sure that there weren't more. He'd said they were 'low-brow imbeciles' who could be dealt with by even a single competent wizard, or maybe two half-decent ones who hadn't matured out of schoolboy-caliber magic.

After hearing the direct advice of the spy, she had a feeling she knew who was behind the information. Although she couldn't be sure. She didn't know how many spies Dumbledore had.

Sirius, James, and Hermione were tasked to recovering Miss Haverford, but it seemed that the camp had either moved or wasn't in the exact location the spy had thought it was, and exasperation was starting to set in.

"James, could I borrow your patronus?" Hermione asked, deciding she was getting desperate enough to use a bit of magic that wasn't invented yet.

"Borrow? My patronus?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrow.

"Yes," she said, slowly. "I have an idea. Just call it out - the corporeal form. I know you can do it."

Hermione said the familiar spell, the only one she'd ever had trouble with, and called out her otter, who cocked his head to the side and waited patiently for instructions. She'd muttered another spell under her breath, one which would direct her patronus to join forces with another, in order to expand its magical capabilities.

James looked confused but only hesitated briefly before calling out his patronus, which was identical to Harry's. Her otter immediately latched onto the stag, opening his mouth wide and swallowing the stag whole, causing the stag to let out a gutteral cry of anguish.

"_What are you_-?" Sirius bellowed, but James, who had paled at first, held off Sirius, as he watched the otter suddenly start to glow brighter and grow in size, until it finally exploded.

Fairy-like dust burst outward rapidly and then stopped, suspended in the air, frozen, for a split second, before it collapsed back in on itself, forming a glowing white-yellow ball that looked similar to a snitch. The little ball shot outward into the woods, leaving a trail of the glowing dust in its wake.

"Don't worry," she told James. "Your stag will still be there when you call it. This is only temporary."

"What did you do?" James asked, as they all started walking down the glowing path.

"Patronuses, even while corporeal, are still just manifestations of the caster's magic. When you combine them, you're combining the magic of the casters, and while our tracking spells alone weren't strong enough to find the location of the camp, our combined magic _is_," she explained.

"Where did you learn that?" Sirius asked suspiciously.

"That's what you're going to ask?" Hermione teased with a smirk on her face. "I figured you'd ask me why I used James's and not yours."

She thought she heard James laugh, but if he did, he covered it up well enough with a cough to where she wasn't sure.

"You didn't ask me, because you knew I wouldn't agree to it," Sirius cockily replied. "Now answer my question."

"You're right," she admitted. "But I'm afraid I can't answer your question.

The trail ended, and the three came to a halt in front of a dubious clearing in the middle of the forest. James and Hermione eyed each other warily, a tense silence settling over them.

"Answer my-" Sirius started to demand, but he was cut off when he was hit by a curse that came out of nowhere.

As more curses were fired at them, Hermione squinted and could see a cabin starting to reveal itself. She dodged the curses and quickly fired back at the Deatheaters, shielding Harry's future Godfather from further harm, as he'd been misfortunate enough to have received the first blow, which was a strong enough Cruciatus to knock him off his feet and cold onto the ground.

James, who'd ducked behind a tree, had managed to subdue two of the Deatheaters, and Hermione had managed to stupefy another, while only sustaining a mild burn from a curse she had dodged just in time.

Her heart was racing, and she eyed the cabin apprehensively, wondering if the tip had proven to be correct and there really were only three Deatheaters guarding their rescue target. She somehow doubted it, as she doubted that even the dumbest of Deatheaters would be dumb enough to leave a powerful witch on her own while they pursued enemies.

Then again, they had revealed their location by firing from inside of it, instead of sneaking up behind them and knocking them out from a close distance, so obviously they weren't too bright.

Hermione stepped toward the cabin, her wand at-the-ready, listening for sounds of movements in the dead of the night. Something didn't feel right about this, and she trusted her instincts enough not to doubt them. She felt vulnerable, but this kept her senses on edge, and she blasted open the door, hoping that it scared anyone inside enough to come out of hiding or to make a hasty movement.

When she listened after the blast, she still heard nothing, and she saw nothing past the smoke except a dingy room with bare walls and dusty floors.

_Step_. Nothing. She heard nothing. _Step_. Still nothing, only her breathing. _Step_... _Crunch_. There it was, almost inaudible but definitely heard - the sound of something unfriendly - but the noise was coming from behind her.

She spun on her feet and saw him - saw a middle-aged balding wizard with beady black eyes sneak up behind James, who was kneeling over Sirius, who was still trying to catch his breath from the impact of the powerful dark curse.

"_Expelliarmus!_" Hermione yelled, as the man was opening his mouth to whisper the beginnings of the killing curse, causing his wand to fly out of his hand. "_Incarcerous!_"

Ropes twirled themselves around the man, and he collapsed into the cold snow.

"_Accio! Accio! Accio! Accio!" _Hermione yelled urgently, summoning each of the individual Deatheater's wands to her, before she bound the other three as well, even though they were unconscious.

Hermione snapped all four of the wands and set fire to them, before she looked up at the wide-eyed wizards still near the edge of the clearing. She could see that Sirius was still weak, and James seemed shaken at what had just happened.

_Understandable_, she mused. Despite their membership to the Order, she doubted they'd had the misfortune of being so close to the receiving end of the killing curse before. From the look on Sirius's face, it looked like even the Cruciatus was a new experience to him, and she wished to the heavens that it could have stayed at just the one time, but she knew that _her _Sirius had been at the receiving end of it enough times to where he was lucky his mind wasn't addled like the Longbottoms'.

She, herself, had been lucky not to have been tortured much either (which she realized was already a loaded, pathetic statement), but she had been through far more than either of the men in front of her had. She'd been through the journey to destroy the Horcruxes with Harry when she was but a girl, and then she'd been through something even worse than that when she became an Unspeakable. These were horrors neither James Potter or Sirius Black had experienced. _Yet_, anyway.

She wanted to save them from harm for as long as she could, for she knew that soon, James would meet his end, and Sirius would experience even more than she would in the next twenty odd years.

"Look after him," she commanded. "I'm going inside."

"It's not safe," James shouted. "I'll come with you."

"Look after Sirius," she repeated, firmly. "_Protego Necto Laqueus_!"

"No!" James yelled, standing up and attempting to run over to Hermione, who was backing into the house. He hit an invisible barrier and was bounced back toward Sirius gently.

"Sorry," she said. "You'll be safe in there."

She turned away from them and made her way into the house, her wand out. She ignored the sounds of James and Sirius attempting to break down her ward, as she knew that they wouldn't be able to. Regardless of their inevitable feelings of annoyance, her mission was to ensure Harry's creation, and part of that involved making sure his father wasn't incapacitated.

The house was void of any furnishings except for simple wooden chairs, and it looked like it only existed to serve the temporary purpose of keeping a hostage. She was glad to find that unlike the cottage that served as Order headquarters, this place was not magically modified and was just as small as it appeared.

She tip-toed through the living room and moved into what she found was the kitchen, relieved to find that no one was there either. On the stove, she found a kettle with tea, and she could feel the heat radiating off of it. There were six cups of tea laid out in preparation. She moved methodically toward the next doorway, and slowly stepped through it. She was in a small hallway, which had three doors in it. Based on the floorplan of the house, she knew that the one on the right must have been the other door she saw in the living room.

Keeping her wand hand out, she magicked open the door to the left and carefully peered into it. She was glad that a light fixture was lit, and she could see a toilet, signifying a bathroom. Although it looked like it was small, she wanted to be sure it was empty so that no one could sneak up on her later, and she treaded lightly into the room.

She had taken one step, when she felt something hard connect with the back of her head.

Hermione first followed the object that had assaulted her and noticed it was a faucet, then looked up and saw a tiny wizard levitated in the air, preparing to fire a curse at her. Hermione barely had time to jump out of the bathroom in time to avoid a red light hurling at her. The wizard, now drawn out of hiding, fired another curse at her, but Hermione deflected it back at him, and he dropped to the ground. Hermione shuddered, repeating the procedure she had done outside with the others.

She put her wand between her teeth and grasped the back of her head, feeling blood running down it. As she healed it, she was glad that the wizard was dumb enough to have tried physically assaulting her instead of using magic right away. From his position, she wouldn't have seen it coming and would have been a goner.

As her wound mostly healed, save for some matted blood in her hair, she gripped her wand again and made a mental note to check ceilings as well from now on. She walked down the end of the hallway and burst through the final unexplored area of the house.

There, she saw a naked, shivering, unconscious witch, who looked to be no older than Percy's age, bruises covering her body, blood leaking from between her legs.

"Oh Gods," Hermione gasped, and she quickly transfigured one of the bits of the tiny wizard's broken wand into a heavy robe, which she immediately draped over the witch.

Hermione looked around the room, securing the rest of the area, and summoned her patronus again, commanding it to do a quick sweep of the area to make sure she had eliminated all of the threats.

She stood over the tortured woman, swallowing down the bile that had started to rise in her throat, and wondered if she should wake her or leave her. Caring for victims was about the only thing she hadn't been taught in the cold and calculating world of the Department of Mysteries, and she had no idea how to deal with this.

Hermione sat down on the bare mattress where the woman laid, and began to heal her most pressing wounds. As she restored some of the blood, Miss Haverford moaned, "just obliviate me. Or kill me. _Please_."

Hermione's heart broke, and she felt rage explode in her body. She thought she was done with this, thought she was done with seeing this sort of thing, and she couldn't help but selfishly think that this was a good punishment from _It_ alright.

"I'm so sorry," Hermione whispered, brushing hair out of the woman's face. "Dumbledore will know what to do."

Hermione didn't know what else to say, so she cast a featherweight charm on the woman and slung her over her shoulder. She ignored the way the woman was clawing at her back desperately and walked back into the hallway. She took the wand again, and this time, without sympathy, she flicked her wand to blast the unconscious Deatheater first through the doors of the living room, then outside into the cold, to join the bodies of his comrades.

Hermione followed his ashen body outside and unceremoniously kicked him in the ribcage, so that he rolled next to where the other four Deatheaters laid. She then lifted the protective charm off of James and Sirius.

Sirius, still clutching his ribcage, was standing up, and hobbled over to her, his mouth ready to be a smartass, but he was silenced when he noticed the battered woman over Hermione's shoulder.

"Let's go," she said, and she reached into her pocket to pull out a playing card. "This is a portkey to Azkaban. Make sure they're all touching it, and say the passphrase, pixies, to send them. I'm going on ahead."

Sirius and James looked at her hesitantly, and Sirius croaked, "was she-"

"Yeah," Hermione answered shortly, before he could complete the question. "I'm off then."

They nodded at her, lock-jawed, and she disapparated.


	10. Day 16 Part One

**Chapter 9: Day 16/180 Part One**

She padded down the hallway and down the stairs, wearing one of Ron's old Chudley Cannons shirts and a pair of yellow, microfiber short shorts. After laying in her bed for two hours, she'd finally decided that she didn't even want to _attempt_ sleep tonight, despite the fact that she was exhausted. After handing the woman over to an Order member named Elizabeth Troy, who was a healer and looked to be much more caring and gentle than Hermione was capable of being, she was led by Professor McGonagall to a waiting Professor Dumbledore, in his office at Hogwarts. The pair listened to James, Sirius, and her recount their mission details, his blue eyes void of their familiar twinkle when Hermione emptily told them what she'd encountered in the house.

After they were finished debriefing, they were dismissed by an unusually soft-spoken McGonagall. When they were outside the statue of the gargoyle, James asked lightly if she wanted a tour of Hogwarts, and promised her that he could show her some things he thought she might enjoy, like a Giant Squid which liked to arm wrestle or less excitingly, the library.

Hermione suppressed a dry laugh and shook her head, rejecting his kind offer and telling him that she was just going to take a walk around for a bit. James apologized but said he promised Lily he'd tell her when he got back. Hermione waved him off with a smile, and he practically ran toward the gates.

She walked next to Sirius in silence for a good bit, unsure of why he was following her, or even _if _he was following her, or if she was following _him_. After a few minutes of tense emptiness, he abruptly pulled her into a hug and told her that he understood why the adult him trusted her with his amulet.

This was enough to make her burst into tears, and she wrapped her arms around him, sobbing into his robes. Sirius, to his credit, let her cry as long as she wanted. He let her cry for the woman, for all the friends she'd left back at home, for the unfamiliar time, for Percy who she was _so _afraid for, and for all of the things he didn't even know about, like the paranormal force trying to kill her and kill him and everyone else who she'd brought back, and for all of the victims she'd made to suffer without even realizing, by being selfish, even though she'd been _warned _that time was give-and-take.

She didn't know how long she was in his arms, but when she felt no more tears come, Sirius, gently held her at arm's length and gave her his most charming heartthrob smile, and said, "I betchya were a Gryffindor."

She couldn't help but crack a smile, and she nodded guiltily, telling him that she was, indeed, a Gryffindor and always would be. This, in turn, made him smile even more brightly, and he led her toward the gates, his arm around her. She also added in, "just for your information, Percy was in Gryffindor, too," which caused him to drop his jaw in mock shock, like he'd been told something particularly scandalous.

Still, she couldn't help but hear the haunting words the woman moaned every time she was in a quiet room, so Hermione gave up on sleep and approached the sitting area, intent on reading. She smiled when she saw the light on, as she'd gotten used to Remus's company.

She was mildly disappointed when she saw the room was empty, but she heard voices from the adjacent room. She followed them, and peeked into the kitchen, where she saw Sirius, James, Remus, and Lily, seated at the kitchen table.

"Hermione," Lily called warmly, beckoning her over.

"Is that clock right?" Hermione joked, pointing at the kitchen clock which showed it was a quarter past two.

"The night is for the young, love," Sirius retorted, winking at her.

He stood up as she walked over, and bowed dramatically, letting her slide in between him and Remus. When she sat down, she smiled gently at everyone sitting at the table, and Sirius slid back in, throwing his arm around her casually.

"Funny," she replied, "because if I didn't know I was older than you, I'd assume that Remus and I were the youngest then, since it's usually he and I who stay up and read."

"There are more exciting ways to spend your evening," Sirius said smoothly, looking at James for back-up.

James laughed conspiratorially, and Lily slapped his arm. Hermione didn't know if Sirius was referring to pranks or sex, and frankly, she didn't want to know - judging by Lily's reaction, anyway.

"I think I prefer the peace of my current arrangement," Hermione said.

"You're going to make a bloke jealous," Sirius whined. "If I have to pick up a book to get your attention, then... _man_, are you difficult."

"Nice to see you two finally getting on," Lily commented, in surprise.

Hermione, Sirius, and James all looked away uncomfortably for a moment, remembering the previous night's events, and Lily seemed to have gotten the message, because she laughed awkwardly.

"So," James said, clearing his throat. "Mum and Dad have been nagging me to come by and see them and tell them about the honeymoon, and they want all of you to come along, too."

"Your mum's cooking, too?" Sirius asked excitedly.

"I assume so," James said, sharing an amused look with Lily, who giggled.

"Fantastic," Sirius exclaimed slapping his hand against the wooden table loudly. "I'm going to buy her a bouquet of those hue-changing sunflowers she loves so much. She always looks so excited to get them, like her deadbeat son never buys them for her."

"Quit trying to make my mum love you more than me!" James huffed. "Under no circumstances are you to buy her those overpriced flowers."

"I'm going to tell her you said that," Sirius threatened.

"You're uninvited," James quickly shot back.

"You can't uninvite me. I'm owling her in the morning to confirm," Sirius said. "_This _is why she likes me better than you."

Hermione joined Lily in giggling, as the men argued like schoolboys. They were momentarily distracted by her laughing, and James smiled like a young lad and eyed the quiet Remus.

"Remus, you're coming, too, right?" James asked. "Mum was sad that you couldn't last time."

"Sure," Remus replied, with a smile. "Your dad was going to let me borrow some of his texts anyway. When?"

"Tomorrow, for dinner," Lily replied. "Sorry for the short notice, but Mrs. Potter asked while you three were on your mission, and I agreed without thinking."

"It's alright," Remus said. "I don't have any prior plans."

"Excellent," James said. "What about you, Hermione?"

"I'm invited?" Hermione asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Of course you are," Sirius replied, pulling her toward him tightly. "Mrs. Potter will love you."

"Stopinviting people to _my _house," James said in exasperation.

"I'll invite who I want," Sirius haughtily retorted. "It's my house, too. Mrs. Potter said so."

"It's not _your_ house," James repeated. "It's _my -"_

_ "Children_," Lily cut off, with a laugh. "The point is, that yes, Hermione, you're invited. I've already told Mrs. Potter to expect you."

"You can't just invite people to mine and James's house, Lily," Sirius mockingly admonished, winking at Hermione.

Hermione burst out laughing and buried her face in her hands. Sirius pulled her toward him again and ruffled her hair. She uncovered her face and smiled at the laughing group of people before her.

"Thank you for inviting me," she said, looking forward to meeting the Potters. "What time are we going?"

"Around six, I reckon," James answered. "Did you have plans?"

"I just have a potion I'm working on that requires precise brewing, and I have to add the next ingredient tomorrow at four-thirty, so six works perfectly," she beamed.

"I haven't heard anyone say something like that in a _long _time," Lily said with a bittersweet smile on her face.

Hermione didn't miss the brief frown flash on James's face, even as he put his arm around his wife and kissed the top of her head. Nor did she miss the way she tensed in his arms despite the fact that she reciprocated his embrace.

_Uh-oh_.

"You're still brewing that?" Remus asked, clearly not oblivious to the sudden tension between the newlyweds either and looking to change the subject eagerly. "I figured now that Sirius isn't being a prat, you'd not try to poison him."

"What?" Sirius asked, letting go of her, and looking at her in pretend shock. "You were going to try to poison me?!"

He stood up quickly and made a show of tossing the tea out of his cup and grasping at his throat, as if he was dying.

"You pillock, you had that before she even got here," Remus reminded, laughing.

"Oh yeah," Sirius said, darting his eyes back and forth before he poured himself another cup.

The tension in the room seemed to be quelled for now, and Sirius sat back down, pouring Hermione a cup as well.

"So, what are you brewing?" Sirius asked, genuinely curious.

"Don't bother asking," Remus answered for her. "I've been trying to get her to tell me for days."

"It's a surprise," she said whimsically, smiling at the two men in turn.

"I _love _surprises," Sirius said, excitedly, bouncing up and down in his seat.

"Too bad it's not for you," she quickly said, shooting him down.

"Awwww," he moaned, pouting out his lips.

"It's a potion _for_ someone?" Lily asked, cocking her head to the side. "What sort of potion is specific to a person? Other than a love potion or a poison?"

Hermione smiled and shrugged, in mock ignorance. "Guess we'll have to wait and see. It'll be ready in another week."

"It's a potion that takes three weeks to brew then, and it's for a specific person," Remus mused, the cogs in his head working in overtime to come up with something but being unable to find anything.

Hermione could see the same thoughts running through the heads of the others, but she simply giggled to herself, knowing it was futile, as none of them would come up with the right answer.

"Well, as fun as this game is," Sirius said, getting to his feet again, "I feel like our new friend here is brewing something we won't be able to guess, so I'm going to head to bed. Good night, friends."

"Us, too," Lily said, yawning. "We have to write 'thank you' cards tomorrow."

"Can't we just get a house-elf to - ouch!" James yelped, as Lily stomped on his foot and frowned. "Fine, no house-elves."

"Good night," Lily said, grabbing James's hand and following Sirius out of the room.

Hermione heard them climb the stairs noisily, and she sighed, resting her head on Remus's shoulder, closing her eyes.

"It's for you, you know," she said, when he gently wrapped his arm around her shoulder, now that she was freed from Sirius's coarse grasp.

"Really?" he asked quietly, rubbing her bare arm with his rough hand.

"Yes," she purred, sinking into his arms.

His touch was feather light, even though his hands were bumpy and worn. He cradled her gently, like she was fragile, his sturdy yet lean frame searing. His sandy hair tickled her forehead when he leaned his head against hers, and her heart rate increased when she felt his warm breath against her face. It was the first time she had leaned against him like this, but she was exhilarated from it and glad that he acted so easily affectionate toward her now. They'd spent just over two weeks reading together every night. And by reading, she meant reading, talking, reminiscing, bonding, and even flirting occasionally.

"Are you finally going to tell me what it is you're brewing?" he questioned. "I promise not to tell the peanut gallery."

She laughed heartily, and put her arms around him, snuggling into him, wishing they were on their regular couch instead of on the hard wooden bench.

"I really want it to be a surprise," she said, "but it's something you'd have to drink every day for a week in order for it to be effective, and you're probably not going to want to do that without knowing what it is."

To her surprise, he didn't tense at her words. He was as relaxed as ever, as he continued rubbing her arm.

"It's not the ideal situation, but if you're confident in what you're brewing, and you want it to be a good surprise, I'll drink it," he said.

"_Really_?" she asked, floored that someone with such trust issues was willing to trust her after such a short period of time. She was fully willing to tell him what she was brewing in order to get him to take it. She never expected in her wildest dreams that she'd actually be able to surprise him with the Wolfsbane potion.

"Not a lot of people who _really _know me still smile at me the way you do," Remus said, "so I'm willing to take a risk so you keep doing that."

She didn't think it was possible for her to be even more surprised than she was, but he did it. She was astounded by the depth, by the sadness, by the _sweetness _of his words, and she grasped him tightly, now doubly wishing they were on the comfortable, worn-in sofa.

"You might be the sweetest man I've ever met," she said softly.

"You might be the most generous woman _I've _ever met," he replied easily.

She detached herself from him just enough to be able to look up to meet his light blue eyes. Her gaze traveled across his smooth skin, down his perfectly shaped nose, and toward his masculine jaw, pausing at his rosy lips. She couldn't look away, especially when she noticed the light blond stubble that littered the otherwise flawless skin on his face, and she realized that Lily and Marlene _had _known something she hadn't even been aware of.

"Dear Merlin, they were right," she mumbled, letting her eyes drift back up to meet his gaze.

"Who was right, and about what?" he asked, although it appeared he wasn't wholly interested in it.

"Marlene and Lily," she answered, swinging one of her legs over the bench so that she could face him without craning her neck.

He mirrored her action and brought his other hand up to her neck, caressing her sensitive skin. "Marlene and Lily?"

"They were right," she repeated, her breath caught in her throat, as she brought one hand to the front of Remus's black T-shirt and wrapped the other around his neck.

"About what?" he asked, barely comprehending her words as he lazily stared into her eyes, unconsciously moving forward.

"About me fancying you," she replied, feeling her face and neck burn a deep red from her admission

"Funny," he said, finally understanding her words, an amused smile gracing his lips as he leaned forward to hover above her lips. "James and I had a similar talk just the other day, albeit more vulgar."

"Did you?" she asked, waiting with bated breath. "And what conclusion did you draw?

"That I want to shag your brains out," he said, and his lips were on hers before she even had a chance to react.

His lips felt fuller than they looked, and they fluidly moved against hers, as he pulled her legs around his waist and pulled her body flush against his. She moaned, as she felt the heat of his tongue penetrate her mouth and felt his shallow breathing against her chest.

She let her hands wander to his hair, like she'd wanted to do since she saw it, and he mimicked the motion, except that he tugged her hair firmly, disconnecting their frenzied lips. She took a sharp breath in as his mouth traveled down her jaw and to her neck, expertly sucking on the sensitive spot his hand had been teasing just moments ago.

She mewed at his kisses, and attempted to push his head down lower, but he stopped his kissing, grabbed her ass, and stood them both up.

"My room," he commanded, taking her hand, and rushing her past the other room, up the stairs, and to his room across from the guest quarters where she was staying.

Once inside, she couldn't see anything except his silvery sheets illuminated by the moonlight, and his fair skin, lighter than her own. He was already kissing her feverishly again, pulling her shirt over her head, and pushing her onto the bed.

She didn't resist and couldn't speak at all once he began kissing down her chest and took her right nipple in his mouth, sucking it, biting it, and then pulling, causing it to pucker up, and causing her to arch forward from the pain. She groaned, grasping at his shirt's hem, trying to get it off, too.

He bent over her and kissed her mouth again, just long enough to allow her to reach the bottom of his shirt and pull it up. He allowed her to pull it over his head, and she gazed hungrily at his exposed chest as he straddled her. He had better defined abs than she expected, and his belly was taut. She could see multiple scars and raw scratches covering his chest, and she reached her hand up to touch a particularly nasty one.

He intercepted her hand and kissed it. "You can fix them if they bother you."

She furrowed her eyebrows and blinked in confusion. "Why would they bother me?"

"They're not the most attractive things to see on a man, I'd imagine," he said, bending back down to kiss her neck again, his hands cupping her breasts.

"I'd disagree with that," she groaned, as he bit her shoulder.

She knew he probably didn't realize this, as he was following his more animalistic instincts to mark her, but the back of her mind told her that if he were to bite her just a little harder, the marks would be permanent, ones that not even _her _brand of illegal magic would be able to cure. She briefly considered warning him of this, but she dismissed the thought almost immediately. She didn't want him to stop.

"You disagree with that," he repeated, skeptically, grinding his crotch against hers.

She could feel his hardness, and she felt herself growing wetter in anticipation of what was to come.

"Since we're past formalities," she breathed, "I may as well tell you that I couldn't be more turned on right now, and it's you who's making me this way, and those markings are a part of you, so if you want them gone, I can try my best, but the way you are right now is everything I want."

He paused momentarily and hovered over her again, his wide blues meeting her browns. She wrapped her arms around his upper back and tried to pull him back down to her, desperate for the contact she was missing.

"Merlin, you're fucking incredible," he groaned, his voice becoming deep and animalistic, "and I'm going to have you now."

"Okay," she squealed, once he'd already tugged her shorts and panties off.

He didn't bother taking his own pants off. He just pulled them down enough to expose his fully erect shaft, which he placed at her soaking opening, and thrust inside without hesitation.

She cried out and instinctively wrapped her legs around him, feeling his buttocks tense with every single deep thrust. She could feel his length and his girth, filling her, stretching her, causing her aching walls to pulse around him.

She opened her eyes to see him staring down at her, his lips slightly parted, panting as he drove himself into her. He looked incredible, his hair swaying, his eyes darkened and cloudy from the lust, his biceps flexed as he leaned on them for support. And she could feel his breath right above her mouth.

She craned her neck upward and took his lips, feeling his stubble against her face, and she closed her eyes again, overwhelmed by the feeling of his tongue _and _his dick, both moving against her, inside of her.

His lips disconnected from hers again, and he grasped her thighs, pushing them down on the bed, further apart, allowing him to drive deeper into her, and that's when she began to feel her climax building.

She could hear the sound of their panting, of her moaning, of his balls slapping against her ass, and she could feel his crotch meeting hers as he went all the way inside of her, hitting a spot she sometimes forgot existed, as well as stimulating her clit with the rubbing of his own skin against it.

She moaned, feeling him starting to speed up, and she felt her own walls pulsing against him. Her breathing became more frantic, and her moans became more high-pitched, the intervals shorter. He bent down over her, digging into her thighs and bruising them, and he bit her shoulder deeply, drawing blood, and something inside her snapped.

Her entire body shook from the orgasm, and she gasped his name, as he continued to thrust into her through her orgasm, faster and faster, until he finally joined her in ecstasy, spilling himself into her languidly, before pulling out.

She was still breathing raggedly when he collapsed beside her, pulling the blanket at the foot of the bed over them, kicking off his half-discarded pants and underwear while he was at it.

When he laid down beside her, he enveloped her in his arms and pulled her snugly against him. She was acutely aware of her own blood on her shoulder and his cum oozing out of her, sticking to her thighs and dirtying the sheets, but he didn't seem to care, as he nuzzled her neck and then kissed her neck, then her cheek, and finally her lips.

"By the way, I don't _just _want to shag you," he said, smiling innocently, _too _innocently for what he'd just done.

She snorted, but smiled back at him. "And I suppose it's obvious, but my feelings for you weren't as innocent as just 'fancying' you either."

He smiled at her apologetically. "Sorry about rushing things a bit. I meant to be a bit more gentle, but I couldn't help myself after what you said."

"I'm glad I said it then," she replied cheekily.

"You wench," he teased. "I shouldn't feel bad about the bite then?"

"No," she said, surprising herself in the process. "I like it."

He looked at her in surprise, but that look slowly turned into a smile. "Good, because the wolf in me likes it, too."

* * *

**Author's Note**: I got tired of the story being a bit depressing, so I decided I'd dump a whole bunch of chapters on you guys until we got to some smut. I hope you liked reading it as much as I liked writing it. Feel free to show me some love for it. Hehe. :D


	11. Day 16 Part Two

**Chapter 10: Day 16/180 Part Two**

The elder Potters had been extremely kind, welcoming her with open arms much the same way the newly married Potters had. Hermione guessed she shouldn't have been too surprised, but a part of her was when she saw that Mr. Potter was blond with blue eyes and Mrs. Potter had jet black hair the way James did. If she were to be honest, she expected Mr. Potter to look exactly like James and Harry and for Mrs. Potter to be a redhead like Lily or Ginny. It just went to show that, even in magical families, they were still popping out genetically combined children, not clones. It had been the luck of the draw that things had worked out that way for three generations now (with James, Harry, and James Sirius all looking the same).

Mr. Potter seemed particularly fond of Lily, immediately sweeping her into his arms and twirling her around, telling her he was excited to have a daughter, something which she didn't doubt he'd told her before already. Mrs. Potter immediately inspected her own son and Sirius, having been anxious to see them post-mission. Once she saw that her boys were safe and unharmed, she did the same amount of fretting over Hermione, reminding her quite a bit of Mrs. Weasley.

It also told her something she hadn't actually known before. The elder Potters were members of the Order. She'd never heard it mentioned before or seen them in pictures of the old Order.

Once Mrs. Potter was satisfied that all three Order members were safe and sound, she invited them into the foyer of the enormous Potter family estate, where a house-elf took their coats (or tried to, anyway, as none of them were wearing coats, and the poor little thing attempted to tug at Lily's sweater, insisting that she take _something_), and she led them through to a sitting area, where a warm fire was crackling happily.

"Remus, dear," Mrs. Potter said, handing him a glass of wine, "you're looking very well."

"You bet he does, Mrs. Potter," Sirius said cheekily, sharing a look with James.

"Yes, well, the full moon is still far away, isn't it?" she said, continuing to hand out drinks to people.

"Yes, Mrs. Potter, thank you," Remus said hesitantly, shooting Sirius a glare which neither of the elder Potters caught.

"That doesn't explain that stupid grin he's had plastered on his face all day. Don't let him fool you," Sirius said anyway, a glint in his eyes.

"You _have_ seemed particularly happy today, Remus," Lily piped in, swishing around the last remnants of her nearly empty glass of wine.

Mr. Potter topped Lily off, and Hermione was distracted from the conversation by what an unexpected lush Lily Potter was. Or a lightweight, rather. She was already tipsy from one glass, her cheeks possessing a rosy glow.

"Oh, Lily, not you, too," Remus sighed, leaning back in his uncomfortable seat, his hand running figure eights up and down Hermione's back mechanically.

"Huh?" she asked obliviously, happily parked between the Potter men.

"Don't encourage them," Remus pleaded.

"Remus, dear, you know things don't stay secret for long in our company," Mrs. Potter reminded, sharing a devious look with her husband. "Have you found yourself a nice girl?"

Hermione swallowed her sip and blushed, looking away. She'd had sex with Remus, but it's not like they were teenagers who were going steady. She didn't know what their 'status' was, but she wasn't about to have that conversation in front of present company. Or at all, preferably, as the rational voice in the back of her head was continuously reminding her that she'd be going back eventually, and then she'd have to deal with _her_ Remus, who she still viewed as a separate person.

"Oh, _I_ see," Mrs. Potter said, excitedly, looking between Remus and Hermione.

"See what, Mrs. Potter?" Lily asked, filling her own glass up again.

"I think you've had enough, love," James said, taking the bottle away from her.

Lily pouted but didn't disagree. She looked at the way Sirius was smirking at Hermione and Remus, and then looked between the two, noticing the way Remus's hand was casually draped across Hermione's back, and she gasped.

"I thought it was _Sirius and Marley, _but it was _you two _we heard last night," Lily gasped, looking at James excitedly.

Hermione hid her face in her hands. She felt so embarrassed that she didn't even want to look the Potters in the eyes. How was she supposed to convey this moment to Harry now? What would she tell him? That his mother was a lush who had no tact? That his best friend slept with their old Defense Professor (and that she'd broadcasted that fact to an entire house full of people with her screams)? That she'd succeeded in making his grandparents hate her?

"Lily, I _really_ think you've had enough now," James said with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I think she's had _just _the right amount," Mrs. Potter said, laughing. "Hermione, there's no need to look so mortified. We've housed two teenage wizards."

Hermione opened her fingers and peeked through them, to see Mr. and Mrs. Potter beaming at her and Remus. She slowly lowered her hand.

"You should have been here when James walked in on Sirius and that lovely brunette girl the summer before their seventh year. What was her name?" Mr. Potter asked, squinting his eyes as he tried to remember.

The smile was wiped immediately off Sirius's face and replaced by the same mortification she had felt moments ago.

"Diana, was it?" Mrs. Potter asked.

"Deanna," James corrected, a disgusted look on his face. "In _my _bed."

"Now James," Mrs. Potter said, with a wicked smile on her face as she winked at Hermione, "you know that sometimes, passion just takes over."

"Oh Gods," James said, sticking his tongue out and making a gagging sound.

"Dear Merlin," Sirius sputtered at the same time, and for the first time ever, she saw Sirius Black blush.

Lily giggled madly and sipped at the glass of wine she'd sneaked back from James.

"Whatever happened to her?" Mr. Potter asked.

"She was held back," Remus supplied helpfully, as both James and Sirius shot him glares.

"Yes, well, she wasn't the brightest, was she?" Mrs. Potter asked sympathetically.

"She could have apparated out or taken the floo, but instead, she ran out the house stark naked," Mr. Potter said, sharing a look of amusement with his wife, very clearly aware of the embarrassment they were inflicting on both their son and his best friend.

"You must not know the Potters very well in your time," Remus whispered with a grin, as both Sirius and James began talking loudly in an attempt to change the subject. "They wouldn't hate you even if you tried to _make _them."

No, she didn't know the Potters at all, she wanted to say, but she wasn't going to give up the fact that it was because all four of the Potters here would die. In fact, she didn't even _know _how the elder set died. It had to have been some time in the recent future.

As if on cue, Mrs. Potter coughed nastily, taking a handkerchief from her husband's shirt pocket. She waved off a swarm of people asking her if she was alright, and merely nodded, trying her best to smile and get back to the conversation at hand, even though she looked worn out from the fit, and if Hermione wasn't imagining things, she looked more pale.

Now that she examined both Potters more carefully, she noticed that both looked tired, even though they were trying their best to seem lively as they entertained the youngsters in the room. It wasn't their age that made them appear that way. Yes, they were clearly older when they had James than when James would have Harry, but they couldn't have been any older than McGonagall, and yet they looked twice as depleted.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Remus asked gently, as Mrs. Potter managed to clear her throat and get back to the important matters at hand, which included Sirius, and whom Sirius was dating. (The answer: multiple good-looking women for a few nights at a time.)

"Just thinking about how much of a lightweight Lily is," she said, trying to force a smile.

Remus eyed her skeptically. "You're a horrible liar."

"I'm actually not," she argued cheekily. "I'm just not trying very hard. I can do better if you'd like."

He laughed at her and shook his head. "No, that's quite alright. If you can't tell me the truth about everything, then I suppose making it obvious when you're lying is the most truthful you _can_ be."

"Too convoluted for you?" she asked nervously.

He considered this for a moment, before he smiled kindly at her. "I like you too much to be put off."

She felt the blush coming on, but she couldn't stop it. She was embarrassed that someone of her caliber and experience could be made to turn as red a tomato with a few words by a boy. She thought she'd gotten over that phase of apprehension after dating Ron for so long. In fact, the men she'd been with since then hadn't had an effect on her at all aside from physical desire and a little bit of residual emotional attachment following coitus.

"Tell me one thing, though," he requested seriously, and she turned her head to meet his eyes. "In the future, d'you still lie to me?"

It was a deep question, and she knew how pathetic and vulnerable he must have felt asking it. The entire situation was odd, and she knew she would pay for her weaknesses here in the future. She just hoped things wouldn't be too awkward with Remus. She'd never seen him in _that _sort of light, except for an innocent crush she'd had on him when he was their Defense professor, before she'd fallen head over heels for Ron. Although, if she were to be honest, he was still an attractive man twenty years in the future, and she'd be lying if she had said that the thought of shagging him in the future hadn't occurred to her, especially since she'd seen what he was capable of last night.

He'd probably only improved with age.

But she tried to put that thought back into the back of her mind again, unwilling to entertain it any further. At the moment, at least. It was a bit too weird, and it made her a bit too nervous. The one thing she'd learned from this whole mess was that she was far more selfish than she'd thought herself to be, so she decided she'd use her negative quality to her advantage and not worry about the consequences of her actions until later.

Right now she was going to be as honest as she could with the good, kind, pure-hearted man who was lending her his fragile heart.

"Remus, before I came here, I'd _never _lied to you, and I _never _would. I respect you fartoo much. You don't even know the half of it - of the extent to which you've impacted all our lives, mine included," she answered whole-heartedly.

He was momentarily taken aback from the information but quickly replaced that shock with a teasing smile.

"I must age pretty well then, because it sounds like you've had a crush on me for longer than I've known about it," he said.

She rolled her eyes at him and shook her head. "Sirius is rubbing off on you."

Hermione realized that she'd said the words louder than she meant to, because she'd caught the attention of the room, and Sirius looked quite pleased with himself.

"What's rubbed off on him?" Sirius asked, leaning on the edge of his chair. "My charm? My humor? My impeccable dress sense?"

"Not how humble you are, clearly," Hermione answered, causing the room to roar to laughter.

"You're laughing at me, too, Mrs. Potter?" Sirius pouted.

"Sorry, dear," she answered, reaching over to slap his face playfully. "You know I love you like my own son, but you do have a tendency to be a bit cocky sometimes."

"A _bit_?" James asked.

"And that, ladies and gents, is the Potter pot calling the Black kettle black," Remus announced, causing his fellow Marauders to purse their lips in mock anger. They pouted like petulant children.

She was thoroughly enjoying being in the Potters' house, especially because of the opportunity she had to see the Marauders in action. They were entertaining to be around, and she was glad for it, as it made her time here pass faster and distracted her from her worries. Particularly now that Sirius wasn't a prat to her and that Remus was comfortable enough to show off how clever and funny he was.

"Oh, Son," Mr. Potter said after everyone had finished laughing, "the cottage in Godric's Hollow is ready for you and Lily to move into. Those pillocks at the Ministry have finally taken care of the Bundimun infestation."

Hermione cocked her head to the side, confused.

"They gave the cottage to Lily and James as a wedding gift, but as they were moving their things in, they found a large Bundimun infestation in the basement, since no one had lived in the house in a while, and when Mr. Potter tried to take care of it himself, the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures wrote him a citation, because an infestation that took up a certain amount of square feet had to be dealt with by professionals," Remus explained to her.

"But they love dragging their feet at that Ministry," Mr. Potter chipped in with a grunt. "Lazy bunch of useless..."

Hermione couldn't open her mouth to retort, since she couldn't tell them she was a part of the Ministry. Besides, most of his complaints were true. Everything was backwards, even now that Kingsley had taken over. Streamlining the Ministry of Magic was as slow of a moving process as anything else that had to do with the Ministry.

"Thank you again for the generous gift, Mr. and Mrs. Potter," Lily, who'd finally started to sober up a little, said.

"It's nothing, dear," Mrs. Potter answered. "We've inherited more property than we know what to do with."

Hermione couldn't help but let out a breath. The Potters were extremely wealthy. She'd known that from Harry's vault, but... what she saw now was so different from what she saw when she looked at any other wealthy, pureblooded family, like the Malfoys, who were always showing off their money but keeping it to themselves. The Potters were generous to everyone and didn't think much of their money.

"I wish you'd take the house in Hogsmeade," Mrs. Potter said to Sirius. "I'd feel a lot better if you weren't living in that flat of yours, away from anyone who could help you if Deatheaters came."

It was an oddly sensible thing to be dropped into conversation, but it was a reality with the war that was raging around them at the moment. Order members were greatest at risk.

"I appreciate the thought, Mrs. Potter," Sirius said somberly, "but I'm afraid I can't accept any more of your generosity. You and Mr. Potter have already done so much for me."

"You're family, Sirius," Mr. Potter said firmly. "You don't need our last name for that to be true."

Hermione leaned into Remus when she heard this serious but sweet sentiment expressed. She couldn't help but think to a time when Sirius had said a similar thing to Harry. He'd told him that the Potters had taken him in at sixteen and had treated him like a son ever since, and Sirius said that he wished he could have done the same for Harry, and that he'd do everything he could to make up for not being able to do so.

"You, too, Remus," Mr. Potter said, turning his head to the pair across them on the uncomfortable loveseat. "Everyone in this room is welcome in our home at any time, for any reason."

Hermione nodded gratefully, fully believing the man's words to be truth, not just an empty offer. She could hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes. It was uplifting.

"And Peter, too," Mrs. Potter said. "Where is he, anyway?"

"He and Crimsley and... Lawrence, I think? are still trying to scout out more safe house locations for the Order," Sirius answered. "Dumbledore doesn't fancy the idea of us staying in Northern England and Scotland for long."

"It's not Northern England," Mr. Potter said, frowning. "It's any location for too long. The longer we stay in the same location, the more vulnerable we are."

Hermione was brought back to Percy's words regarding the fate of the cottage they were currently located in, and she wondered if perhaps nothing did happen to it, and it merely _had _been a tactical change.

"He's with Crimsley, you said?" Mrs. Potter asked, waiting for Sirius to nod in affirmation before she said, "good. He's safe then."

Hermione knew Remus would notice her react, especially with how close he was to her at the moment, so she refrained from any obvious movements including the urge to clench her fists.

"Are you all going be staying put for a while?" Mrs. Potter asked, frowning deeply. "I heard about what happened in Norway from Minerva this morning."

"I'm the keeper of Awry place, so I _can't_ go anywhere," Remus said with a frown.

Well _that _explained why everyone but Remus had been given missions at the last meeting she had gone to, and it explained why he patrolled and tended to the property.

"I think we'll be following up with our last mission," James said uncomfortably, "once Dumbledore figures out what we should do."

"It's awful what happened," Mrs. Potter said, bringing her arm around her son and hugging him tightly.

"I still think you lot are too young to be handling things such as that," Mr. Potter said, "and before you get bent out of shape, it's not because you're incompetent. I just think you're too young and have already had to suffer through too much in this war to keep seeing more of this."

If only he knew the half of it.

"When Minerva told me she'd sent you boys on that mission, I was furious about it. We should have been sent instead," Mrs. Potter said, coughing again.

"Are you sure you're alright, Mum?" James asked.

"Fine, dear," she answered keeping her arm firmly planted around her son.

"Well, I'm glad Hermione was there," Sirius said quietly. "If it hadn't been for her, we would've been goners. Both of us."

Hermione's expression softened as she looked at Sirius. It was clear that he still felt guilty about treating her badly but was still too proud to apologize, which was fine with her. She couldn't blame him for being suspicious, and she, Ron, and Harry would've done the same thing in his shoes, she bet.

"I appreciate you keeping the boys safe," Mrs. Potter said, smiling warmly at her. "Even if you had to force them to let you."

"Force them to let her keep them safe?" Lily asked, looking from Mrs. Potter, to James, and then to Hermione.

"I used an advanced form of _Protego _which locks the targets in a safe bubble," Hermione said, with a satisfied smirk on her face. "Really hard to break out of."

"Did you?" Remus asked, hiccupping with laughter.

"Had to," she replied, shrugging innocently. "Sirius had been knocked down, and James was looking after him. One of the Deatheaters snuck up on them and nearly _Avada Kadavra_'d them, so I wanted to keep them safe while I secured the property."

"I still think I could've gone with you," James said. "You could have just secured Sirius using that spell.

"No, I'm afraid you couldn't have," she said, twiddling with her fingers.

"And why's that?" James pressed.

"Honestly?" Hermione asked, not waiting for a reply before continuing. "You were too distracted. You were a bit too shaken. I think you would've put both of us in more danger. Plus, I didn't know how bad off Sirius was, and I felt better leaving someone with him."

James looked like he wanted to say something, but his father wisely cut him off with a firm shake of the head. "From what I heard, it sounds like she made the right decision. Have you a lot of experience fighting, Hermione?"

"Unfortunately," she answered sadly. "Far more experience than I wish I had."

"Isn't that the truth?" Mr. Potter asked rhetorically.

"Enough of this," Mrs. Potter interrupted. "I think dinner should be about ready, so let's head to the dining room."

Everyone stood up, and they filed into the next room. Hermione hung back when Remus took her hand and tugged on it.

"I didn't get a chance to talk to you about what happened on the mission," Remus said quietly, his eyes barely meeting hers. "Are you alright?"

She bit her lower lip and nodded slowly. "I will be."

When she looked back up to meet his gaze, he brought his lips down to meet hers. He pulled on the lip she had just been biting and sucked on it, hard. Hermione leaned into him, her hands tugging on his ragged shirt. His hands held her hips lightly, and when she opened her eyes, she saw him staring at her.

She pulled apart, still caught off guard by the fierce and close eye contact he was able to maintain while kissing.

"Biting on your lip makes me want to bite on your lip, too," Remus said, half-smiling. "It's the feral side of me I normally try to hide."

"No need to hide it from me," she said, accepting the hand he stuck out to her.

"I know," he said, leading her toward the door of the dining room, pausing to give her another of his cocky smiles. "It's unexpected for how dominant of a person you are, but I've noticed you get a little heated when I let the wolf in me come out to play."

She blushed. He was the first person who'd ever caught onto that. Even though Hermione Granger was dominant herself, it was a refreshing change of pace when someone else took charge. If anything, she was even a bit of a masochist, which was something she was too embarrassed to ever share with any of her lovers in the past.

"I like it when you blush," he whispered, taking her through the doors. "Your entire body turns red, and I can't wait to see more of it."

She turned scarlet, trying her best to avoid the knowing glances of Lily, James, and Sirius, as she and Remus sat down at the table, ready for more lively conversation with the Potters.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Thanks for the lovely feedback from the previous chapters. The story stays light for a while, so enjoy the fluff. Next chapter, we get a better look at the young and volatile relationship that Hermione is basically babysitting, and the story starts skipping larger chunks of time. Depending on the feedback, I may post two or three chapters next time, since they're short, and I hate leaving you guys with short chapters.


	12. Day 27

**Chapter 11: Day 27/180**

"This still tastes awful," he said, shuddering as he handed her back the goblet. "You said I have to drink this for a week?"

"Yes," she said apologetically. "I'm sorry, but I promise it'll be worth it."

"Can't I add something to it to improve the flavor? Like a bit of chocolate?" he questioned.

She giggled, sending the goblet flying back into her trunk with a flick of her wrist. So this is how Remus found out that he couldn't add anything to the Wolfsbane potion. _She _would be the one to tell him. Sort of ironic - reminded her of _Back to the Future_ in terms of time travel paradoxes, except that this one was far less awkward.

"No," she answered. "Chocolate reverses its effect."

"Well, the longer I have to drink this, the more I'm skeptical of its merits," Remus said, gulping down his water, the only thing he could drink after the potion for thirty minutes.

"I really am sorry, Remus," she apologized, knowing that he was already growing weaker from the nearing full moon, even though he was doing well to hide it. She hoped that the potion was already starting to have an effect and was easing some of his symptoms.

She wasn't worried about the potion itself, as she trusted her potion brewing abilities completely, and she knew it would work. She just didn't practically know how far the potion's soothing effects extended. She knew Remus would maintain his mind during the transformation, and she knew his transformation wouldn't be as painful. She also knew that it eased the symptoms of lycanthropy leading up to the full moon, but she didn't know to what extent. She'd have to ask him about it afterward. She would have asked him about it now, but that would ruin her surprise.

"Kiss me to make me feel better?" he asked innocently, walking over to where she was leaning on the counter next to the kitchen sink, and placing one arm on either side of her.

She shook her head and sighed, although a smile crept onto her lips, not unbeknownst to him. She tilted her head up and parted her lips. He took the invitation to bend down and kiss her. Hermione uncrossed her hands and grasped Remus's own, holding them as he kissed her gingerly.

After a moment, he pulled back, and she stuck out her tongue, making a nasty face.

"You're right. That _is _disgusting," she commented, making an exaggerating gagging sound.

"Ouch, Moony," James called, walking into the kitchen. "Gotta be a bad feeling when a bird says kissing you is disgusting."

Hermione giggled, as Remus sent her a dirty look for encouraging James's behavior. She brought her arms around him and hugged him tightly, kissing him chastely on the lips.

"Oh please," Remus said sarcastically. "Don't force yourself."

"Take what you can get, mate," James said, as Lily popped into the room to join them. "A lack of better options is how I tricked Lily into marrying me."

"You mean there were better options?" Lily asked, feigning shock.

"Nope," James answered easily. "Everyone else is a disgusting pervert who likes to skin pygmy puffs. Even Remus."

"Even Remus?" Hermione asked, letting her arms drop to her side as she stared at him in mock shock.

"_Especially _Remus," James maintained, struggling to keep a straight face. "And anyone else with a penis who speaks to Lily."

Hermione and Lily shared a laugh, and the foursome sat down at the picnic table in the kitchen. She'd had dinner with Marlene and Lily last night, but it had been a good week since she'd seen James. He was still completing his Auror training, and now that he and Lily were living at the cottage in Godric's Hollow, seeing him daily was a luxury she no longer had. In fact, the only person she got to see daily was Remus. All the other members of the Order just sort of popped in occasionally, which worked fine for her. She was still waiting to see what her next mission for the Order would be, because as far as she could work out, James and Lily were doing well.

"So what are you two doing here?" Hermione asked, taking her right hand and locking it with Remus's left one, which was slung around her shoulder affectionately.

"Were we getting in the way of something?" Lily teased.

"I doubt it," James said, smugly. "Apparently, kissing Remus is 'disgusting.'"

"It's not, you pillock," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "The taste of the potion he drank was."

"The potion you started brewing a few weeks ago?" Lily asked, her ears perking up. "Does this mean you'll finally tell us what it is?"

"Nope," Hermione said, laughing at Lily's sudden interest. "Not even Remus knows yet."

"You're drinking something without knowing what it is?" James asked in disbelief, looking at Remus as if he was mad. "Who'd do something like that?"

"Someone who trusts another person," Lily said, the hearts in her eyes practically oozing out.

"I'm sorry, love, but I wouldn't drink an unknown potion, no matter who it came from," James said skeptically.

"I would drink a potion you gave me," Lily said, challenging James to tell her that he didn't trust her enough to drink something she gave him.

"I would drink a potion you gave me, too," James said, "but not if I didn't know what was in it or what it did. And I don't think you'd drink something unknown either."

"Severus used to give me potions to drink all the time, and half the time, he didn't tell me what they did beforehand," Lily snapped. "It'd just be sort of a nice surprise after, like when my skin cleared up or when my hair didn't become frizzy when it rained."

"You drank random potions _Snape _gave you?" James asked, as if the idea was preposterous. "That explains a lot then. You started to talk to me once you stopped talking to him. He was probably giving you a hate potion or something."

Lily's jaw dropped at the accusation, and she slid out of her seat and stood up. She turned to glare at him and then just as easily turned away to stare at the wall angrily, opening and closing her mouth, unsure of what to say.

Hermione looked at Remus uncomfortably, and he seemed at a loss about what to do as well, so they sat there awkwardly, while Lily became angrier and angrier.

"It's not that big of a deal," Hermione said, finally attempting to quell the argument that she sensed was escalating.

Lily ignored her and pointed her finger at James accusatorily. "You... _you're _the reason I didn't talk to you until seventh year. You were - _and still are at times - _insufferable, cruel, and insensitive. When you finally _grew up, _or I _thought _you grew up anyway, _that's _when I started talking to you."

With those well-worded sentiments, Lily walked out of the room and out the front door, not slamming the door shut behind her, not making a scene, but just walking away in a quiet, deadly rage.

"You should follow her," Remus suggest quietly.

"So she can hex my balls off?" James scoffed. "No thanks."

"I'll go," Hermione said, standing up quickly, panicked at how severe that argument seemed despite so little having been said. It almost sounded like Lily regretted that she stopped talking to Snape and started talking to James, and although Hermione doubted she meant the latter, it was still an ominous enough statement to put strain on their relationship.

"I'll wait to make dinner until you get back," Remus offered softly.

"You're sweet," she said, bending down to kiss his cheek, and then his lips. "Thank you."

He simply smiled in response, and she could hear his and James's hushed voices as Hermione ran after Lily, knowing she had to catch up with her before she reached the apparition point, or else she'd have no idea where she went.

"Lily!" Hermione called, running down the path outside the front door.

She could see the woman striding forward with purpose, trying to leave the area. When she heard Hermione's voice, she didn't turn around but slowed her pace considerably so that Hermione could catch up. Hermione was able to do so just as Lily reached the familiar marked trees that signified the edges of parameters.

Lily grabbed Hermione's hand, and Hermione felt the familiar woozing of side-along apparition. She'd always hate this sensation, so she just grabbed onto Lily's hand tightly, waiting for them to land at their destination.

When they finally made contact with the ground, they were at a pond with a large, aged tree shielding them from the sun overhead. There were wildflowers everywhere, and the area looked like it hadn't seen attention in a long time. When Hermione looked around, she could see some houses off in the distance but nothing close enough by to where they were likely to have been caught apparating.

"I grew up near here," Lily said, answering the unasked question as she sat down and then spread herself out underneath the tree.

"It's beautiful," Hermione said, sitting down next to the girl.

"The person that James mentioned, Snape, Severus Snape, grew up here with me," she continued. "He was my only friend until I got to Hogwarts, and when we were at Hogwarts, no one could really understand why. He was withdrawn, a bit sarcastic, depressed. But no one ever asked why. He had a tough childhood, Severus. You couldn't even imagine the horrors he had to live through."

Oh, she could imagine. She'd been told by Harry.

"And then it continued at Hogwarts. Sirius and James were horrible to him. They pulled cruel pranks on him and called him derogatory names at every opportunity. I always tried to protect Severus, but he never let me. I realized later he was just trying to hang on to a bit of his pride," Lily said, sighing heavily. "One day, he pushed me a bit too far with his attitude when I'd just been trying to help him, and I ended our friendship."

Hermione listened quietly, realizing that Lily was speaking from the heart, and that, that was something she probably hadn't been able to do about this particular situation. Hermione knew that Snape was hated amongst all of Lily's friends, so she wouldn't have felt comfortable confiding in them about it.

"James, despite me being livid at him at the moment, really has come a long way. He even apologized to Severus once. Or he tried to, anyway. Severus wouldn't even let him get it out. He and Sirius started to leave him alone, and they are how you see them today. I just... miss Severus," Lily said, closing her eyes deeply. "There was a point at my wedding when I'd really realized it. I thought to myself, 'I really wish Severus was here. I'd like to have a dance with him.' Not that I can picture Severus dancing. I bet he'd be good though. He's got this smooth quality to him."

Hermione couldn't imagine _ever _wanting to dance with Snape, but she supposed that Lily had known a side of him that she'd never know, and she _could _see that 'smooth quality' to Snape that might make him a decent dancer.

"Have you ever tried talking to him after?" Hermione asked quietly, not sure if it was in her place to ask and yet not being able to help herself.

"I have, actually," Lily replied quietly, guiltily, implying that James had no idea of any such exchange. "I owled him at the wedding reception."

Hermione swallowed hard. Yeah, James would be incredibly hurt if he knew that.

"And then again on the honeymoon," Lily continued.

_Oh Merlin_. Hermione tried her hardest not to think about the implications of the times Lily had picked to owl a man who was in love with her.

"He replied to the second one, and we've been talking since, although we haven't met up yet," she said, sadly.

"Do you think you will?" Hermione asked nervously, unsure of how big of a rift this could be for Lily and James's relationship and scared to find out.

Lily paused for a long time, mulling the idea over in her head, an internal struggling clearly raging within her.

Then, just as Hermione was preparing to say something else, Lily answered quietly. "Yes, I think I will."

Hermione's heart nearly pounded right out of her chest, and she sat there, unsure of what else there was to be said that she could say without compromising her mission.

"He's not... he's not the most pleasant person to be around," Lily admitted quietly. "Most - _all _my friends hate him, but I - I think that you wouldn't."

Hermione nodded wordlessly. It was true. She didn't hate Snape. He was a hero. He was a good man who made a few mistakes, and right now, based on what she knew of the time period, he was at the height of making them. Right now, he was a Deatheater, a friend to Voldemort. Severus Snape was _the enemy_. She just wished she knew if meeting Snape or if encouraging Lily to meet Snape was the right thing to do. But back in her time, Snape hadn't so much as looked at her since that initial Order meeting detailing her journey.

"If I _did _go and meet with Severus, would you maybe want to come with me?" Lily asked. "I'm nervous, if I'm to be honest."

Hermione looked at Harry's future mother, whose red hair was flying about her in the wind, her robes flush with the ground she was lying on, an apprehensive look on her face, and she somehow _knew _that this wasn't a good idea. She also knew she wouldn't be able to stop her, so she decided to do the second-best thing, which was to go with her.

"Sure," Hermione agreed quietly. "He sounds a lot like someone I know back home."

"Really?" Lily asked excitedly, sitting up and taking Hermione's hand.

Hermione didn't know which part Lily was asking about, so she simply nodded and said, "and if your Severus is anything like the man I knew from home, he's essentially a good man who's simply lost his way."

"Oh Hermione," Lily said, throwing her arms around Hermione tightly. "I'm so glad you're here."

Hermione didn't say anything, feeling a headache coming on, and she plainly nodded, forcing a smile onto her face as she joined Lily in lying down on the grassy hill by the serene pond.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Oh Lily. *shakes head*


	13. Day 30

**Chapter 12: Day 30/180**

He looked so tired, his skin sunken and sallow, sweat forming at his hairline, on his forehead, soaking through his clothing. He looked like he was suffering from a high-grade fever more than a vicious magical affliction, and it broke her heart to see him looking in worse and worse shape as the day went on. To her delight, he hadn't looked too bad in the days leading up to the full moon. He'd looked a bit worn, but that was about it.

But she supposed the potion was already doing an extraordinary thing by doing this much for him, and while she knew this was still going to be painful, it was better than it normally was, and he'd be back to normal in a day or two. Still, they had to get through this transformation.

He looked at her, his eyes pleading with her to reconsider. "You really don't have to put yourself in danger tonight. James and Sirius are going to be here, and I won't be able to leave the forest."

"I noticed last month how horribly slow I am in my animagus form, so it wouldn't hurt for me to get some practice in," she said, putting her arm around him and kissing the side of his head.

"I know. It's just that..." he trailed off, looking at James and Sirius, who were chattering away excitedly about tonight's adventure, and he lowered his voice. "I don't like you seeing me like that."

She brushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes and smiled bravely for him. "I'm not going to say I'm looking forward to it, because I know how painful the full moon is for you, and that'd be insulting, but I am going to say that if it wasn't painful for you, I'd probably be enjoying it as much as those two."

They both looked over at Sirius and James, who had broad grins on their faces, as if they were kids at a candy store and their mum told them they could have any candy they wanted because they'd behaved.

"You really are something," he said, pulling her into a tight embrace, and she could feel him sniffling her hair, "and if the sun wasn't going to set soon and I wasn't so bloody exhausted, I'd be letting my 'furry little problem' take over for a bit."

"How lewd," she teased, nuzzling his neck, feeling how tense he was.

"Alright, you two," Sirius called. "'Nough of that. It's time to get going."

Hermione pulled away from him and squeezed his hand.

Hermione had attempted to pay enough attention to be able to recite back the plan for keeping Remus preoccupied and out of danger while in animagus form. They'd done a good job of orchestrating the entire thing, even taking her small form into account. They'd turned the night into an opportunity for a play, keeping the wolf from self-harm and out of danger, keeping him within parameters, while making sure minimal harm was inflicted on everyone.

She tried to look serious as she nodded along, but she knew they wouldn't need any such plan tonight.

They were standing outside of the cottage, as the sun began to set, and Remus unabashedly stripped off his clothing, knowing that anything he had would be ripped to shreds anyway if he didn't and not really able to afford that. As he did it, Hermione did him the courtesy of looking away, knowing that although he didn't ask her to, he probably appreciated that she did so, just like Lily, who was inside, stayed in the sitting room instead of in the kitchen, where she'd have a view of the transformation.

As the full moon started to appear from beyond the horizon, even before the sun had been able to completely sink, the transformation started. On cue, Hermione, James, and Sirius transformed, and she couldn't help but be thankful that the area was hidden from Muggles, lest someone come upon the sight of a sable, a stag, and a shaggy black dog sitting side-by-side, unmoving as their eyes stayed glued to a man turning into a wolf-like creature right before them.

Remus howled in pain as his limbs stretched and his bones reformed, but it looked significantly less painful than when she'd seen it in her third year, she was glad to report.

_'Are you ready?' _Sirius asked telepathically, stretching out lazily before standing up and walking to one side of Remus.

_'I'm ready. Hermione?' _James asked, taking his position opposite of Remus, as if they were getting ready to herd a sheep.

'_Sure_,' she replied, unmoving, as a smile crept onto her face. She wagged her uncharacteristically bushy tail, her identifying feature in animagus form. _'How about you, Remus?'_

_ 'He can't answer when he's like this,' _Sirius reminded her. '_Muggle and magical creatures normally can, but werewolves are the exception. He loses his mind.'_

_ 'You sure?' _Hermione asked, as the transformed, hairy, slender wolf-like man sat before them, unmoving.

'_He's normally attacking by now,' _James said, galloping toward Remus. '_What's going on?'_

_ 'Careful, Prongs,' _Sirius warned, although he joined James in slouching closer to Remus, staying low to the ground as if he was hunting.

'_Moony?' _James asked, carefully, bending his head forward and using his nose to prod Remus.

Remus, who'd been completely motionless until then, slowly raised his head to look at the stag, then turned to look at the dog, then at the sable. He blinked in confusion.

'_Am I transformed?' _he asked slowly. '_I must be an animal if I'm talking to you, but... I'm not an animagus, so I must be transformed.'_

_ There was a pregnant pause among the foursome where they all took turns looking at one another, until..._

'_Holy hell,' _Sirius said, bouncing around like an excited puppy, before he tackled Remus to the ground and licked his face.

'_Geroff, Pads,' _Remus pleaded, trying to push the massive dog off of him. '_I'm still really sore.'_

_ 'Sorry, sorry,' _Sirius replied, and Hermione could see the oddly placed grin on the dog Sirius's face. '_It's a Christmas miracle.'_

'_Except that it's July,' _James said, although even his telepathic voice sounded happy, and he was galloping around as happily as Sirius was bouncing around.

'_Hermione,' _Remus said turning toward her.

'_Yes, Remus?' _she asked innocently, as she stood up and walked over to him, crawling into his lap and turning her big almond eyes upward to look at him.

He took his hand and stroked her fur, playing with her bushy tail. She ignored the weird sensation and how odd the situation was getting, glad for the fact that she could even _find_ anything odd in their world at all.

'_This wasn't a miracle at all, was it?' _he asked, adoration in his eyes.

'_I don't really believe in miracles, so that's a bit of a loaded question,' _she replied back, baring her teeth in a ferret-like smile.

'_That potion you've been having me drink for the past week... this is what it's done, hasn't it?' _he asked.

She knew it wasn't particularly difficult to deduce, but she expected him to be bouncing around happily, not questioning how it had happened for at least a little while, like the other two Marauders were doing presently. Until they stopped to stare at her anyway.

_'Yes,' _she replied happily. '_A friend of mine back home is working to see if he can cure lyncanthropy completely, but until then, a relief of some of the symptoms is the best we've come up with. And by we, I don't mean me. This isn't my research, so I can't take credit for it.'_

_ 'Yes, you can. You're fantastic,' _he said, hugging the tiny mammal in his lap. '_Thank you.'_

_ 'You're welcome,' _she answered. '_Now, should I get you a book or something to pass the time?'_

_ 'No!' _Sirius interrupted, nudging both of them with his nose. '_Maybe for next time, but tonight, we're going to celebrate this Christmas in July miracle by playing a game of tag, Marauders style.'_

Hermione giggled her high-pitched sable giggle and prepared to spend the rest of the night playing childish games with the Marauders.


	14. Day 32

**Chapter 13: Day 32/180**

She had been surprised by how quickly Remus had bounced back. The morning after the full moon, she had found him cooking breakfast in the kitchen, humming along to a jolly tune playing on the wizarding radio. Upon seeing her, he wrapped her up in his arms and began dancing with her in a blithe, upbeat way she'd never expected him capable of, if she were to be honest. He thanked her again for the potion and told her that he he'd never felt so good so soon after a transformation. His eyes shimmered playfully, a boyish grin on his face as he dipped her, a spatula still in his hand.

After breakfast, they had settled into the comfortable couch they had shared their first conversation together on, almost a month ago, his arms enclosed around her, his hands intertwined with hers. They'd talked a bit about the potion, and she told him that, unfortunately, it wouldn't be discovered for another two years, so she could keep brewing it for him while she was here, but she didn't think anyone else in their circle would be capable of brewing it after she left. He hadn't taken offense to the statement, because he seemed to realize that her skill was comparable to a Potion Mistress's, and he said he was grateful for her brewing it while she was here and hopeful for the future, knowing that he'd get to have it again before too long.

She was humbled by his positive outlook and appreciative of it. She was also appreciative that Sirius had the sense to change the subject when James had tried to ask her questions about the potion, such as where she'd learned to brew it. It was a welcome change to have Sirius running defense for her, and no one else had asked her much about it afterward, distracted by his stories of pranking an innocent witch in the lifts at the Ministry.

"Can I ask you something?" Hermione asked the man behind her, when she sensed he was drifting off.

"Anything you want," he answered, his voice filled with adoration, something which she still wasn't used to, causing her heart to swell a bit.

With difficulty, she reeled the urge to smother him with kisses and pulled out what she really wanted to know.

"That man Lily mentioned a while back - Severus Snape - what do you think of him?" she asked, hesitantly.

"An unexpected line of questioning," Remus mused. "Any reason for it?"

"Yes, but first I want to know what you think," Hermione urged. "Tell me honestly."

"I think he's a very misunderstood man," Remus answered with some hesitation. "I don't know him very well, so I can't say much more than that, but I think he's drifted wayward since he and Lily had their rift. I think he might be a Deatheater now, although I don't think Lily suspects it. James does, on the other hand, not that either of us are suicidal enough to tell her that."

Hermione nodded, almost impressed at how perceptive Remus Lupin was, even at his young age, although she felt odd saying that considering she only a couple of years older.

"Whenever I followed Lily out that day, she told me she's been speaking with him again, and before your transformation, she mentioned going to meet up with him. She asked me to join," Hermione admitted.

She felt Remus tense, gripping onto her tighter.

"You don't think it's a good idea?" Hermione asked.

"No," he said stiffly.

"Why not?" she asked, wondering what his rationale was. "I can handle myself against a Deatheater."

"It's not that," Remus said quickly. "It's Lily. James has always suspected that Snape was in love with her."

"And what do you think?" Hermione asked, curiously.

"I think it's obvious that he does," Remus replied easily. "I'm just not sure if Lily is aware."

Hermione pondered this for a moment. "Hard to tell, but I guess I'll find out when I'm with the two of them."

"If you do, be careful," Remus urged. "Snape isn't dangerous, I don't think, but the people he associates with might be."

"What happened to not being worried about me?" she teased.

"You inferred that on your own," he retorted. "I just said I knew you could handle yourself. It doesn't mean I'm not worried."

She smile, twisting around in his arms to kiss him. "I appreciate your concern, but you shouldn't worry. I can take on anything or anyone that comes my way."

"I know you can," he said. "You might be the most capable witch I've ever met."

"'Capable,' you say?" she teased, bringing her arms up, and pushing his chest so that he was laying with his back flat on the sofa. She straddled his hips. "That's not the word I was hoping for."

"How about 'devilishly sexy,' or something like that?" he asked, placing his hands on her hips, his fingers toying with the hem of her shirt.

"Much better," she answered, leaning down to capture his lips.

"Can I tell you something comic?" he asked, his hands drifting up her shirt, massaging her back.

"Sure," she said, halting her ministrations and meeting his gaze with a smile on her face.

"With how combatitive you and Sirius were, I honestly thought you two were either shagging already or were going to start," he admitted.

Hermione burst into laughter, tossing her head back.

"Oh Gods," she said, running her fingers through her hair. "That's funny."

"After you got back from your mission, he did start flirting with you almost immediately, and he hasn't really let off since," Remus said, unsure laughter in his own voice.

"Yes, that's true, I suppose," she said. "But at the same time, by the time he stopped being a wanker, I was already itching to shag you though, wasn't I?"

Remus smiled, grabbing her upper back with his hands and pulling her down. "It feels good to hear you say that. It's a real ego booster."

"Like you need an ego boost," she scoffed, gyrating against his growing hardness. "The first conversation I had with Marley and Lily was about how many girls you had after you and how you mostly ignored them."

Remus shrugged innocently. "I wasn't aware of any such girls."

"Sure you weren't," Hermione mocked, putting her hands in his hair, as she leaned down to kiss his neck.

"If not with Sirius, I really could have sworn you were dating that bloke you came with - Percy," Remus said, sliding his hands back down to her ass and grasping it firmly, grinding his hips against hers.

"If we're not messing around here, then can I be honest?" she asked, stopping her sucking and suspending her face over his.

"Well, I'd hope so," he said, furrowing his eyebrows. "On both accounts. I know we haven't exactly discussed it, but I'd hoped that this meant something to you as well."

She sighed loudly. "It'd probably be better for both of us if it didn't mean anything to me, but it does."

"I know," he said, "but I'm not going to regret or apologize for getting to know you, Hermione."

She smiled sadly at him, and bent down again to kiss him chastely. "Me neither. And we have plenty of time to worry about the implications of this later."

"That's the spirit," he said, laughing quietly. "Life's too short to worry about what comes later. And if two people like each other, there isn't a reason for them to not be together. So what is it you wanted to be honest about?"

"Percy," she said, blinking a few times. "He and I had _something, _in the past, but it was _casual_, if you understand what I'm trying to say."

"Casual for _both_ of you?" he asked skeptically, causing her to laugh.

"You really _are_ perceptive, Mr. Lupin," she said. "Moreso than I am. Because before Percy left, he confessed to me that he loved me, and I was blindsided by it. I was so shocked that I couldn't even respond."

He sat up underneath her, putting his hands on her hips.

"And now that you've had time to think it over?" he asked hesitantly.

"And now you're being stupid," she said, laughing, as she leaned into him, embracing him firmly. "I've shagged him a few times but was shocked when he told me he loved me, meaning that I'd obviously never even _considered _a relationship with him, let alone longed for one. And yet with you, I want one even though I _constantly _have all of these thoughts harping at me in the back of my head, reminding me that I'm not here to stay, that we're both going to get hurt, wondering if you're going to hate me when I get back to my time, trying to analyze what Sirius said to me before I left. And despite all that, I've put my job at risk by mending you with illegal spells, I've put my place in the Order at risk by brewing you Wolfsbane, and I've put the timeline in danger by doing what I'm doing right now, which is confessing that I'm starting to fall for you, Remus Lupin."

He had a goofy grin on his face that was adorably childish. "Although I'm a man of significantly fewer words than you, the feeling _is _mutual."

"I'm glad there's an upside," she said, giggling. "Because I think we've beat the mood to death with a rubber chicken."

"You don't know blokes as well as you think you do," he said, thrusting upward, surprising her with a hard bulge, showing her he still intended on shagging her soon.

"Oooh," she said, reaching her hand down to pet him through his pants.

"But before we get back to _that_, I wonder if you could tell me what your job is?" he asked.

She pried her attention from the large pulsing organ in his pants and considered his question for a moment, before she sighed and nodded, deciding that trusting Remus with a bit more of the future wouldn't change anything. "I'm an Unspeakable for the Department of Mysteries."

"Wow, really?" he asked, then laughed and shook his head. "Never mind. I guess I ought not be too surprised. You _are _incredibly smart and well-rounded in your magic. You're highly competent with potions, with spell-work, with healing, with dueling, and with... everything I've seen thus far."

She blushed, "And you've always been one of the only people who could make me turn scarlet with your compliments."

"I'm glad to hear it," he said, taking the opportunity to flip their positions, laying her onto her back and straddling her, "because if your entire body flushed like this for everyone, you might be getting better offers than a shabby old werewolf like me."

Hermione put her arms around his neck and pulled him down so that he hovered above her face. "Oh I get plenty of offers, believe me. I'm a bit of a war heroine back home."

"And yet you didn't leave behind a significant other," he said, placing featherlight kisses around her mouth and jaw.

"I guess I'm peculiar in my tastes," she said, smirking. "I guess my type just happens to be an intelligent, surprisingly loud-mouthed, trouble-making, shameless, sandy-haired werewolf."

He stopped kissing her face to smile at her in amusement. "Yes, I can see why you'd have trouble finding someone to date. Those requirements do seem rather specific."

"Good thing I've found the person who meets them then, eh?" she joked, a challenging smirk on her face.

"Good thing indeed," he replied, bringing his mouth down to ravage hers, his hands roaming over her body, which we was slowly starting to become familiar with, going underneath her T-shirt and up to her breasts, pinching her nipples, cupping the soft, squishy flesh there, while she clawed at his back.

He grinded into her waist, causing her to moan into his lips. This only incited him further, as he let his lips move to her neck, licking and sucking down, shoving her T-shirt aside so he could have access to her shoulder blade, where he changed pace, kissing the bite mark he'd left weeks ago gently.

"Still hasn't gone yet, this one," he said, and she didn't bother to tell him that it never would heal properly, because of the depth of the bite and the wolfish hormones that had been present at the time of it. She didn't mind having it, and frankly, she didn't want him to beat himself up over something she didn't think was a big deal.

So she simply moaned in agreement, tugging his shirt over his head. He disconnected from her flesh in order to toss the shirt over his head. He'd just bent back down to kiss her again, when they heard the door open, and a plethora of different voices entered the cottage.

"Ugh," Remus groaned, uncharacteristically annoyed. She had to agree with the sentiment, although she had enough sense to appreciate the fact that they hadn't gone any further in such an open area before they'd been interrupted.

Hermione tried to sit up, but Remus was still on top of her, bending down onto the floor to grab the shirt she had just tossed down there, and she settled for adjusting her T-shirt, pulling it down to cover her belly, while Remus was trying to find the holes of his T-shirt.

"Whoa there," said the familiar voice of Sirius, his arm tossed around a witch she didn't recognize. "Come at a bad time, did we?"

Remus found the other arm hole of his shirt and shrugged it on, crawling off Hermione and pulling her up into a seated position.

"Astute as always, Padfoot," Remus mumbled, clearly unhappy with the situation.

Hermione didn't blame him. Usually the Order would owl when they would come by or when a meeting was scheduled. There was usually _some _sort of prior notification before someone simply stopped by, but she knew that was technically just a courtesy for the headquarters' keeper. So she couldn't be too angry, even though her hormones were currently raging, as she'd actually been craving Remus's touch for days now. As it got closer to the full moon, he became more disheveled looking, and he couldn't shave frequently enough to gain control of his facial scruff, and she loved it. And yet, he was too weak to give her what she needed, so she waited patiently for him to recover, so that she could have him.

Of course, she wouldn't tell _him _that, as young Remus had as much of an inflated head as young Sirius did, it seemed. Well, perhaps it wasn't _as _inflated, as that seemed a nearly impossible feat, but it was close. She briefly wondered if older Remus had one as well and she merely didn't know him well enough to know it. She doubted it. She knew him plenty well enough to have seen it. It must have been years of abuse, losing all of his friends and family, losing _everything_ which beat the playfulness out of him. She tried not to entertain that thought too much, as it made her horribly upset.

"Don't pout," Sirius said, smiling, as he pointed to the woman he had his arm around. "Look who's back!"

"Torrence," Remus said, standing up promptly to give the raven-haired woman a hug, one which she returned warmly. "Welcome back!"

"Thank you," she replied in a soothing coo which escaped almost inaudibly from her pale, full lips. "How are you, Remus? The full moon was two night ago, wasn't it?"

Hermione inspected what she could from her unadvantageous placement on the couch, and she saw a tan, tall, well-built woman with a narrow waist and wide hips, wearing robes that seemed not only tailored for her, but as if the very cloth they were woven from was done so only to sit on her delicate yet strong figure. She had almost shockingly blue eyes, so light in contrast to her tan skin and dark hair, which had naturally lighter brown segments from sun exposure in them. How someone could look so natural and yet so gorgeous was sinful.

And that she was thoughtful enough to know when the full moon had been and to inquire about it irrationally annoyed Hermione.

"I'm here, too," said a squeaky voice she recognized immediately but wished she didn't.

"Look what the cat dragged in," James said, stepping forward, his arms draped around a short, pudgy wizard's shoulders.

"Wormtail," Remus said, just as excitedly, letting go of the woman and going to hug his friend.

Hermione sat there, stupidly, feeling as if she'd get in the way if she introduced herself, so she sat there, waiting for someone to take notice of her.

That someone was Lily, who had at some point come to stand next to her.

"Hey guys, this is Hermione Granger. She's a friend of Professor Dumbledore's and a new Order member," Lily said, winking at Hermione.

"Nice to meet you, Hermione," the woman in the midnight blue robes said, extending her hand kindly. "I'm Torrence Crimsley."

_Ah, yes_. She remembered Mr. Potter saying something about Peter being in good hands with someone named Crimsley, but for whatever reason, she'd figured it was a man, not a woman. And not a woman who was so good-looking and graceful.

"I'm P-Peter. Peter P-Pettigrew," said Pettigrew, extending his knobby hand to her.

She took it, keeping her face neutral, in hopes that a look of disgust wouldn't penetrate through her core and shoot out at him in the form of seven years of battling she'd done against Voldemort because of him.

"Nice to meet you," she lied easily, still unable to understand how all of these intelligent people were so fooled by him - everyone except Marlene, it seemed.

"We're just stopping by for a few days," Crimsley explained. "We're on a mission to find new safe houses, although I think it's mostly just an extended errand run."

"It's so _exhausting_," Pettigrew complained, collapsing like a tub of lard onto the loveseat, taking up both seats.

Hermione made a mental note to scourgify anywhere he sat.

"If Dumbledore says it's important, it's important," she reminded Peter, annoyed with him, "and if we didn't have to stop to take so many breaks, we wouldn't have to go back again."

"I- I'm a little out of shape," Pettigrew admitted, causing Sirius to snigger.

Lily pinched him.

"Yes, well," Crimsley said, pursing her lips, clearing biting her tongue to prevent herself from saying what she really wanted to, and Hermione couldn't help but like the woman for the obvious fact that she didn't think Peter was of much worth, even though she wanted to dislike her for lingering a bit too long when hugging Remus.

"There were three others with them," Sirius explained further, walking into the kitchen. Everyone followed him to their usual sitting area. "They're older, and they went to say hello to their families first."

"I expect you'll get to meet them at the next Order meeting before we leave again," Crimsley said, sliding into the seat next to Remus, and Hermione was childishly disappointed as she saw the only option left for her was to sit at a crowded opening between James and Sirius.

Sirius didn't seem at all disappointed with the arrangement, and he put his arm around her, rubbing her shoulder and kissing the side of her head.

"So tell me," Crimsley said, ignoring the rest of them and looking at Remus curiously. "What's been going on in the two months we've been gone?"

Remus smiled in amusement at Crimsley, and Hermione immediately realized Crimsley was part of the rare group of people who got to see such unguarded expressions from the young werewolf.

Sirius took charge and launched into a summary of events, gliding gracefully over the bits he wasn't to talk about, such as the Wolfsbane Potion, that Hermione and Percy were time-travelers, and the more delicate bits, such as Remus and Hermione shagging like bunnies.

"That's sad, about that woman," Crimsley said, once Sirius had caught her up completely. "Is she alright?"

"She's being treated at St. Mungo's at the moment," James said darkly. "She seems to be making a recovery, but McGonagall's said that once she's better, she and Dumbledore are going to try to see if they can get anything useful out of her, like the locations of any other Deatheater camps or anything that could help us identify members."

"James, that sounds ruthless," Lily chastised.

James shrugged, glancing warily at his wife. "It is the way it is."

"Sometimes, horrible things happen," Hermione said quietly. "If we can find any good in them at all, it's not wrong to take that good."

"She's right," Sirius said, and the group settled into a brief, dark silence, unable to escape the tragic implications of war.

Until Sirius decided he couldn't take the silence anymore, and he turned to Crimsley excitedly. "Let me tell you about the memo I bewitched at the Ministry to follow around this witch who works in Accidental Magic Reversal. Christmas songs!"

"Oh Gods," James groaned.

"Here we go again," Lily said.

"Just to let you know," Remus said to Crimsley, "there _is _no punch line."

"_Hey_," Sirius said, pouting. "Just because _you _have no sense of humor, Lupin."

"I solemnly swear to laugh at your story, Sirius," Crimsley promised. Sirius stuck out his tongue at Remus. "Even if it isn't funny."

Hermione couldn't help the giggles that erupted from her mouth, as she rubbed Sirius's back comfortingly, finding infinite amusement in the way he stuck out his bottom lip and crossed his arms.

* * *

**Author's Note**: And we continue on with our fluff for a while, as we reach the halfway point in the story! Hope you guys enjoyed the double dose today!


	15. Day 33 Part One

**Chapter 14: Day 33/180 Part One**

Everyone had decided to crash at the Order headquarters last night, and by everyone she meant everyone under the age of thirty, including Sirius, James, Lily, Marlene, Peter, Alice, a bloke with the last name Prewett who she couldn't remember the first name of but who had strawberry blonde hair and a build that looked a lot like Charlie Weasley's, and Crimsley. And the permanent guests, Remus and Hermione, of course. It was her first night, since arriving at this time, that she'd gotten properly smashed.

Hermione had always been an advocate of drinking responsibly, especially after what happened the last time she didn't. It had been a post-war celebration, where she'd lost her virginity to Ron, and she'd nearly come out of it pregnant. The magical pregnancy test she'd used after being late had scolded her, saying, "you're lucky this time, but his sperm are motivated to get to the egg, so try using protection next time, dear."

She'd spent every subsequent night trying her best not to repeat the experience. Of course, now that she was older and more experienced, she'd been drinking a contraceptive draught faithfully and knew _that_ wouldn't be an issue, luckily, but she still avoided the loss of control.

When she woke up, however, she did so with a splitting headache, still fully clothed in her Muggle jeans and tank top, on the floor of the library, of all places. When she sat up, she saw an anatomy book propped open on the table, and she vaguely remembered giggling like a pre-pubescent child with James Potter and Peter Pettigrew about vaginas. She only remembered who had been involved, because Peter and James laid passed out in the library next to her.

She shuddered at the thought that she'd been vulnerable and passed out with Peter Pettigrew, until she realized that she had to remove James's hand from her waist in order to get up. He'd been protecting her in her sleep, as odd as that was, and she doubted that Peter could've done anything with James there. Even while plastered, James Potter oozed chivalry, and that made her smile.

Careful not to the disturb the two (and really, avoiding the temptation to inscribe the word 'traitor' on Pettigrew's forehead), she stood up and stepped out the open door. When she felt her hair, which was a frizzy monstrous pile atop her head, she was grateful for the hairtie she had wrapped around her wrist, and she pulled her hair back, surveying the damage.

There weren't any telltale signs of a drunken party, like vomit everywhere, and she was grateful for that. She saw Alice, Marlene, and Lily curled up on the couch, with a glamour magazine in Marlene's lap, and she smiled, flicking the magazine away with the wand in her back pocket, and summoning a blanket to cover the women.

She continued walking to the kitchen, where she made herself a large cup of coffee. She opened the door to the garden out back, hoping some early morning fresh air would do her good. She doubted anyone else would be up for hours, but for Hermione, it'd always been like this - even when she had late nights before, she always woke up at the break of dawn. The light energized her.

When she walked out back, she was surprised to see that there was someone already outside, but it wasn't a human. It was a great, big shaggy dog, the size of a small horse, his tongue and ears fluttering in the passing breeze.

"Well, hello there, Snuffles," she said, and he cocked his head at her, confused.

She realized that he probably hadn't heard that nickname before and wondered if he'd forget she had called him that in fifteen years when the Golden Trio would, for the first time.

"Whatchya doing in your animagus form?" she asked, sitting down next to the dog, and patting his head.

He looked at her happily, his tongue still out, spittle dripping off of it.

"Ahh, some things are just more enjoyable in that form, huh?" she asked, and he looked positively giddy when she began scratching his back.

He was so adorable in his dog form. After Crooks had passed, Hermione had quickly fallen in love with every cute animal she saw. She knew because of her work and the hours it involved that it'd be a horrible idea to actually get another animal herself, so she went a bit mad every time she saw one. Ginny had teased her, telling her that normally women went 'baby mad,' not 'pet mad.' Still, every owl, every cat, every dog called out to her. Even _frogs _called out to her.

She knew she'd gone off the deep end when, last Christmas, she overheard Ron tell Ginny that he'd gotten her a rare Hogwarts-edition Pygmy Puff from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, one of only two hundred, one of only fifty Gryffindor ones, and Ginny had hissed at him to take it back, because it'd only get her emotional and want a more substantial pet.

Poor Ron. When he gave her a fancy jumper that year for Christmas, she'd emotionally hugged him, and told him that she appreciated the thought, and knew what he must have gone through to pick out something she'd liked. Ron looked at her like he was bonkers but did a good job of keeping a straight face as he patted her back and avoided teasing from the twins for the rest of the night.

Still, Hermione's animal craziness persisted, and she was glad that _someone _seemed to enjoy it, because Sirius was now sprawled out on the grass, kicking his leg when she scratched a particularly sensitive part of his belly. She couldn't help but giggle at his display, and she bent down to kiss the top of his head, hugging him tightly.

He responded by licking her face once, and then turning into human Sirius again, his face inches from hers.

"Well, hello there, gorgeous," Sirius whispered, waggling his eyebrows at her.

She rolled her eyes at him and let go of his head, letting it fall into her lap. He laid there, looking up at her with a goofy grin on his face.

"You can keep going if you want, you know," he said, smiling broadly at her. "I'm not going to stop you."

"Somehow it's not as endearing when you're not a hundred pound ball of fuzz," she replied back, laughing.

"I'm still a ball of fuzz, see?" he asked, waggling his head, so that his dark, curly hair fluttered around his face in the wind.

"You're cuter as a dog," she replied back, trying to hide the smile creeping onto her lips.

"I figured you'd see a kindred spirit in me," he said, sitting up, and pulling her hair out of its confines before she had a chance to argue.

Like his hair, hers was immediately picked up by the wind and flew around her. The humidity from what looked to be oncoming rainstorm didn't help the situation either, and her hair poofed out more than it had since her first year at Hogwarts.

"Gimme," she whined, trying to gather her hair with one hand while trying to grasp at the hairtie Sirius was holding hostage with the other.

"You should leave it," Sirius said, smiling mischievously. "You try to act like you're all about substance, but I see through that pretense, Miss Granger."

"Are you saying I'm vapid?" she challenged, eyeing him questioningly.

"Of course not," he dismissed with a snort. "I'm merely saying that even people of substance care about aesthetics, even if they care more about their own than others'."

"And how do you figure that?" she asked, intrigued.

"Easy," he replied, still not giving her back her hairtie. "Most women I shag have some preference for how I should style my hair. I've gotten, 'let it grow; it's so beautiful Sirius,' and 'it'd be more manageable if you just cut it short, Sirius,' and everything in-between. Even from women who I don't sleep with and never would - like Lily."

She rolled her eyes.

"But you, love... I don't think you care what I do with my hair at all. I genuinely think you'd appreciate it regardless," he said, and she nodded in agreement.

Sirius was incredibly handsome. He still was in her time. Even when he'd been on the run from the law, he'd had that wild quality about him, and she'd had her first naughty dreams about him during the cusp of womanhood. She'd never admit it to someone, but Snuffles and Professor Lupin kick-started Hermione's puberty.

"So you're trying to prove my shallowness by saying I don't care about your _hair_?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," he said, smiling. "You don't care about _my _hair, but I bet you spend a fortune on hair care products and a little too much time learning charms and spells to get your hair to stay in those perfectly glossy curls that look like they just _naturally _fall into place, like your hair's matured with you."

She opened her mouth to retort, but she knew she couldn't. Sirius had her. She knew it, and she knew he knew she knew it. So she looked away guiltily.

"Kids were mean to me, and it stuck with me," she admitted, thinking back to her first year when Ron had said all those cruel things to her, or back to when her teeth were grown out, and Snape said he couldn't see the difference.

"Aww, don't look sad, love," he said, giving her the hairtie back and putting his arm around her. "I didn't mean to make you sad."

"I'm not," she said, shaking off the insecure girl she still had inside. "Everyone's got their repressed childhood memories."

He nodded in agreement, his eyes becoming steely for a moment, before he snapped out of it.

"I just wanted to tell you that I like your crazy hair," he said, smiling again. "I think it suits the spitfire inside."

"I just like your hair period," she said, smiling warmly at him. "I've always been jealous of it."

"Funny enough, you're not the first girl to tell me that," Sirius said, laughing.

"You know what I like best about you, though?" Hermione asked.

"What's that, love?"

"Frankly, I think you're the strongest person here," she admitted. "You say what needs to be said, even if the reality is hard. You're good at being rational, but then you're also able to twist the situation around to cheer people up. But again, you do it in a way that's understanding of the gravity of it."

"Well, I _am _Sirius," he said, laughing at his own joke.

Hermione giggled and shook her head, knowing she wasn't going to get a more serious and less Sirius reply out of him, but knowing that he only made the joke because he was a little embarrassed at the compliment.

"You know what I like best about you?" Sirius asked, after they stopped laughing.

"If you're going to say my lady bits, I don't even want to hear it," Hermione said, laughing again.

"Damn, I best change my answer then," he joked. "But really, I like that you don't bend to anyone. It's a quality that seems rare these days."

She nodded in agreement, a smile on her face at his compliment.

"D'you reckon it's going to rain?" she asked, as a particularly strong gust blazed past them, and she shivered.

She looked up and saw quickly moving clouds overhead.

"It's s'posed to. It gets pretty rainy this close to the sea this time of year," he answered.

"We're close to the sea?" she asked.

She didn't actually know where they were, just that it was somewhere in Northeastern England or Southern Scotland based on the accents of a local Muggle she'd seen on her one and only attempt to explore past the boundaries. Normally she just walked past the boundaries of the forest to apparate.

"Yes," he said, standing up, reaching out his hand. "D'you want to see? I don't think anyone else will be up for a while."

"No, I don't suppose they will be," she answered, taking his hand and standing up.

"You might want to grab a cloak. It gets chilly out by the water," he suggested.

"I'll be fine," she said, and she followed him down the familiar path.

They'd spent the journey past the local Muggle village and to the rocky seaside in friendly conversation, and immediately upon getting the salty gust from the sea, she wished she had taken Sirius's advice to bring something, because she shivered from the cold.

The seaside itself was flawless. Their headquarters were so close to it that she was surprised people didn't come here more often. She and Sirius were standing a ways away from the edge of a rocky cliff, the endless pounding of the turbulent waves against the side of the wall creating a soothing, steady sound she'd only really heard on tapes as a child when she couldn't sleep. It was much more striking in person.

When she looked out, she could see how tumultuous it was out there, even bigger waves hitting a local fishing boat, rain pouring down in turrets in the distance.

She stood, admiring the remarkable view, when she felt a large cloak rest around her shoulders. She was startled out of her trance, and she saw Sirius standing still next to her, no evidence that he had moved at all, except that he was now standing in well-tailored black pants and a light, grey jumper which accentuated his eyes.

He was always well-dressed, and right now, he was the more intelligent of the two as well. She felt guilty for taking his cloak when he'd had the forethought to bring one in the first place.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, over the sound of the crashing waves. "I hadn't expected it to be this chilly in July."

"It's alright," he answered. "You're not familiar with the landscape here. We're on the eastern coast of Scotland."

"Scotland?" she asked, surprised. "I thought we were in England."

"No," he replied back simply, shaking his head. "Nearly, but no."

"No one's exactly giving out maps with Order locations plotted on them, are they?" she asked, wryly.

"McGonagall got miffed with me when I tried to do that," Sirius answered cheekily. "Although that might have been because they were drawn in crayon."

She giggled, imagining a hand-drawn, brightly colored map of the UK, complete with canary yellow and apple red arrows pointing to a smiley face on the coast of Scotland, with the words "WE R HERE" on top of their headquarters location.

"Complete with spelling errors and everything?" she asked, smiling.

"No!" he exclaimed, in mock indignation. "I'm not _stupid_."

She giggled loudly. "My apologies, good Sir."

"You are forgiven," he replied dramatically, bowing to her. "Now, onto more important things. Since you're Muggleborn, I take it you like traditional English breakfasts."

"That's a bit of a stereotypical statement, but yes I do," she answered, raising her eyebrow at him.

"There's a little Muggle cafe in the village we passed through that has astounding breakfasts. It's run by an older married couple, and they're always nice to me," he offered, surprising her. "Although you'll have to take off the cloak. They look at you oddly if you're in wizarding garb."

"That sounds lovely," she replied, grinning from ear-to-ear. "I'm surprised you think so, too. I didn't take you to be the type to like Muggle establishments."

He looked at her with an amused quirk of the lip. "I didn't know much about Muggles until James took us all to meet Lily's parents during Christmas hols, seventh year, and I've been interested in them ever since. Maybe I would have been before then, but I didn't have the type of childhood that nurtured curiosity about Muggle food, music, and dress."

"No, I reckon you didn't," she answered, with a frown. "Not when you've had to share the same roof with people like Bellatrix and that awful, awful house elf."

"You know my cousin? And Kreacher?" Sirius asked, surprise clearly registering on his face.

"I owe a lot to your cousin," Hermione said bitterly. "She taught me first-hand what it feels like to be at the wrong end of a nasty Unforgivable or two."

Sirius paled considerably, disgust registering on his face, rage emanating from his body. "Hermione, I'm so sorry."

"You do more than enough to make up for your family name," Hermione said, waving him off. "No one holds the Black name against you, you know?"

He looked speechless, for the first time since she'd met him.

"Now, how about that breakfast?" she said, after she saw him struggling to form a reply. "Have you got Muggle money on you?"

"I have," he said, regaining his composure.

He held out his hand for her, and she took it, letting him lead her away from the seaside.


	16. Day 33 Part Two

**Author's Note: **This chapter contains sex that isn't wholly vanilla, so be warned.

* * *

**Chapter 15: Day 33/180 Part Two**

Sirius Black was full of surprises. There never was a dull day with that man, and she realized it throughout the course of the brunch they had at an old bed-and-breakfast in the Muggle village near the seaside. The elderly couple greeted him by name, and the woman hugged him and kissed him on the cheek, immediately inquiring about Hermione. It made her smile that he'd made friends with them.

Sirius had further shocked her when he said that because of their age, they sometimes had trouble doing certain tasks themselves, like chopping firewood, so Sirius volunteered. Sirius then admitted sheepishly all his tough laborious tasks had been accomplished through magic. She gave him half-credit, because it was the thought that counted.

After a lovely meal, he'd taken her back out, to beyond the forest, where she was met with rolling hills and fields of farmland. He took her to walk down a trail, where they passed a sheepdog who greeted Sirius lovingly. Sirius bent down to play with his floppy ears, before shooing him off, telling him that his owner must be worried sick about him. Apparently Sirius was familiar with everyone and everything in this area, even though he didn't live at headquarters.

When she'd asked him about it, he said that he never spent a day at headquarters without venturing out and exploring, meeting new people, making friends, and helping out the locals when he could. He'd even discovered a young wizard in the area, a Muggleborn who didn't even realize he had magic himself. Every time his family was hit with misfortune due to inclement weather or poor soil, he'd magically made the crops grow large and prosperous overnight. The highly religious family praised God, when they should have been praising their ten-year-old son, who Sirius said would surely be getting his Hogwarts letter next year.

On their way back to Awry Place sometime in the early evening, it started drizzling. Soon, the heavens opened up, and Hermione and Sirius sprinted down the familiar path leading back to their safehaven. When they arrived, they were laughing, Hermione's hair a mangled, matted, wet afro, and Sirius's shoes squishing beneath him, and neither thought to use magic to fix themselves up.

Upon entering the front door, Hermione peeled Sirius's soaking cloak off of her, and couldn't help but look at his nipples protruding from the lightweight jumper he had on. Sirius, seeing what she was looking at, pointed out, in mock indignation, that he didn't have a lightly padded brassiere to hide his excitement the way she did. This caused her to burst into another round of laughter, Sirius following behind her.

"Where have you two been?" James asked curiously, as he walked into the hallway and spotted the two soaking wet Order members, laughing hysterically.

"I showed Hermione around the area," Sirius explained with a genial grin. "She didn't even know what country we were in."

"Shuddup," she said, prodding him in the side. "Don't make me sound stupid."

"I'm not making you sound stupid, so if it comes off that way..." he trailed off, sticking out his tongue.

"Shuddup," she said again, hitting his shoulder.

"Stop telling me to shuddup!" he pouted.

"I'll stop telling you to shuddup when you shuddup," she insisted, and both of them burst out into another fit of laughter.

"Children," Lily said, shaking her head, and Hermione looked up to see a small crowd had formed at the doorway.

"Sorry, sorry," Sirius apologized, winking at Hermione. "Got carried away."

"I can see that," she scolded, as she dried off their clothing.

When Hermione looked around and saw Remus looking at her curiously, she quickly realized the state of her hair and pulled back her hair with the long-forgotten hairtie.

"I still think you look better without," Sirius whispered, as he pushed past her, walking up to James, Remus, and Peter, and shaking his hair at them like a wet dog, causing them all to groan at the droplets of water that had landed on them.

Hermione couldn't help but smile at his display, and she followed the rest of the group into the sitting room.

Apparently, everyone had gone home to change, with promises to be back the following night again, and the only ones left were the Marauders, Lily, and Hermione, which she was alright with, as she preferred smaller crowds to bigger ones, even if she realized that less people meant a smaller buffer between her and Pettigrew.

"Tea, anyone?" Hermione asked, and she heard grunts in reply. "I'll start a pot then."

As they sat down, she walked into the kitchen, and as she hoped, she'd been followed by Remus.

"Have fun?" Remus asked, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her.

"I did," she answered, grinning, as she continued to fill the kettle with water. "Everyone else was sleeping. Where'd you wind up last night?"

"You don't want to know," he said, darkly.

Hermione thought of who wasn't accounted for her on her trek to the backyard, and the only people she could think of were Remus and... Crimsley. She shut the water off and turned around in his arms, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Whoa, what's that look for?" Remus asked, taken aback.

"I woke up in the library with James and Peter. I saw Alice, Lily, and Marley on the couch. Sirius was out back. That leaves you and Crimsley," she said, jumping to the worst conclusion immediately, although she knew rationally that she'd had no right to be upset even if something _had _happened, because, while they had admitted they had feelings for each other, they'd also sort of come to an understanding that if this feeling was fleeting, then that was okay. Nothing had been set in stone between them.

"Are you jealous?" he asked, grinning stupidly.

"Of course I'm jealous," she said, not blinking. "I'm just as territorial as you are, Wolfy."

"'Wolfy?'" he asked, smiling.

She, however, was not feeling as happy.

"Torie went home early last night," Remus said, laughing. "I woke up spooning in bed with Fabian - thankfully, still fully clothed."

She relaxed in his embrace and sighed a breath of relief, bringing her arms around him.

"Wow," Remus said, grasping her tightly. "You really _were_ jealous."

"I'm not ashamed to admit it," she murmured, still clutching onto him.

"I've been jealous the entire time you've been gone with Sirius," he admitted softly. "And he's my best mate. Know he wouldn't make a move on you. Know he could get you if he wanted to. Know he probably does want you. But know he won't try it. And yet, I'm still jealous."

Hermione leaned back from him, and brought her hand up to cup his cheek. "He couldn't get me, even if he wanted me, which I don't think he does, by the way. There's only so much of me to go around, and right now, it's you who has me."

Remus looked skeptical but didn't push it. He bent down to capture her lips softly, a quiet passion raging between his soft lips.

"Don't worry about Torie, by the way," he said, when he pulled apart smiling. "Part of the reason she gets on so well with us blokes is that she has the same tastes we do, if you catch my drift."

Hermione's eyes widened in realization, and she blushed, feeling stupid.

"Has had a crush on Marley for years," Remus continued, rubbing it in, laughing.

"Should've told me that last night," she muttered, feeling stupid at her insecurity.

"I would have, if I'd known this was an issue," he quipped.

"Fair," she said, a sour expression on her face.

"Don't pout," he said, rubbing his nose against hers. "If I knew you'd look this cute jealous, I'd have started bringing 'round all the girls who have fancied me over the years."

"You mean the girls you weren't aware of?" she challenged.

"Yeah, those ones," he replied cheekily.

She rolled her eyes, pushed him away, and took the magically prepared tea back into the living room. She waved her wand, summoning cups for everyone there. They didn't have enough of the same sort, so people were drinking out of various different ones that Order members had left here over the months.

Hermione sat down between Sirius and James, purposely squeezing in-between them so as to not leave a place for Remus.

Sirius, who seemed to understand the situation, gave her a coy half-smile and put his arm around her, playing with her ponytail.

Remus, who'd followed Hermione in with milk and sugar, spotted the cozy pair, and paused, meeting her challenging gaze. Remus then turned to Sirius, who seemed to be enjoying the situation too thoroughly to let up.

"Hands off my girl, you twat," Remus growled, more assertively than Hermione had expected, and he took his wand, nudging Sirius onto the floor and onto his arse, while he took his previously occupied place next to Hermione.

"Good for you, Remus," Lily said, cackiling evilly at Sirius, who was rubbing his sore bum.

"M-Moony is dating h-her?" Pettigrew asked in obvious surprise.

"I am," Remus said. "So don't you go pawing at her. Any of you."

"Except Lily," James said with a sinister twinkle in his eyes, narrowly avoiding Lily's hand.

"Or Marley," Sirius added.

"Or Torie," Remus agreed, ignoring Hermione's glare, as the Marauders all shared a mental chest bump.

Hermione rolled her eyes again and stifled a yawn, stretching her hands up in the air. She hadn't gotten a whole lot of sleep last night, and her all-day adventure with Sirius had worn her out. She supposed running sopping through the rain didn't help either. Although she wanted to spend some more time with her friends, she was about ready to go to sleep. Dumbledore wanted to see her the next morning anyway.

"As fun as it is listening to you four being disgusting, I think I'm heading to bed," she said, stifling another yawn as she stood up, flicking her tea back into the kitchen without bothering to take out her wand.

If the others had seen the bit of wandless magic she'd just performed, they had decided not to comment on it.

"Good night, love," Sirius said, winking at her, earning a glare from Remus.

Everyone else echoed the sentiment, and she trudged up the stairs, ready to pass out. She was passing the room next to a portrait of Albus Dumbledore, winking at her, when she was pushed inside from behind, the door shutting behind her.

She turned around and saw Remus, smiling in a mischievous, predatory way at her. She couldn't help but giggle at it, only inciting him further. He advanced on her, his gentle, Remus-like smile no longer present, replaced with a wolfish one. He took her chin in his hand and forced her to look up at him. She swallowed.

"Thanks to your potion, I've recovered all my strength already, Hermione," Remus said. "The potion doesn't ease the call of the wolf inside, though, does it?"

She shook her head slowly, knowing that from experience. She caught Bill Weasley, who wasn't even a full-fledged werewolf, eating raw red meat around the full moon, so she couldn't even imagine what sorts of urges were running through the body of the young wizard in front of her at the moment.

"You're making this difficult on me," he said softly, leaning down to smell her hair. "For a week now, I've had to smell you with these _heightened senses_."

She flushed, as she realized the implications of this. She had been naive in thinking she could hide her arousal from him due to his wildly growing facial hair and raw pheromones. She'd only been provoking him, because he'd been fully aware of what she wanted this entire time.

She reached her arms up and put them gently on his back.

"I'm sorry, Remus," she said, meeting his dark gaze. "I was trying to be considerate, because I knew you'd be weak."

"I know," he said. "But I'm not weak anymore, so let me do what I wanted to do last night."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat, and she raised her hands, placing a silencing barrier on the door, before turning back toward Remus, who let her finish her spell before he twisted her around, and bent her over the bed, pressing her head into the cushion.

He pulled down her pants roughly, pushing his hands between her thighs. She gasped at the sudden intrusion, already wet as his fingers started to slide in and out of her.

"One of these days," he promised softly, "I'm going to be gentle and lavish you with the attention you deserve."

"I'm looking forward to that," she said, moaning as his thumb started working in circles around her clit. "Until then, I'm satisfied with you thoroughly fucking the shit out of me."

She heard his zipper, felt him pushing his head against her entrance.

"Dirty witch," he teased, keeping his engorged member resting against her entrance as his fingers slowly pulled out, spreading her juices onto her labia, rubbing circles around her swollen clit.

"Not as dirty as I want to be," she admitted, as she thrust backward against him, aching for more.

"You want to try something new then?" he asked, hesitantly.

"Anything, just... inside me, Remus," she begged, as he let go of her head and steadied her hips with both his hands.

"Alright," she said, and she heard him pick up his wand and murmur a spell she didn't catch.

Then, his fingers slid back into her moist opening, causing her to groan in frustration. She was just about to open her mouth to complain when she felt the steadily mounting pressure of him pushing his lubricated member into her _other _opening.

Although it didn't feel as sensitive as her vagina did, the repressed witch inside screamed in pleasure at the slight tinge of pain, even after whatever spell he used, and the mix of sensations, his hand thrusting slowly in and out of her, his thumb rubbing circles on her clit, and his cock in her ass.

"I'll stop if you want," he said, his voice husky.

"Don't stop," she begged with a strangled cry, as he finally went in all the way.

He complied, and he began moving in and out, his moans echoing through the room as he bent over her. She almost wanted to laugh at how backwards this was, as he squeezed her bare ass with his large, coarse palm, ran it up her back, and slowly moved her shirt up, until it fell over the top of her hand.

"Lift your leg on the bed," he commanded, "and stand up straight."

She followed his prompt, and he removed the shirt over her arms, leaving her in just her bra.

"Take that off, too," he breathed, thrusting inside her at a steady pace, his right hand moving circles around her clit, his left, running up her smooth belly.

She reached behind her to do so, getting frustrated with the steady pace.

As if he could feel it, he cupped her breast, leaned forward to bite her other shoulder hard, and thrust upward into her, his thrusts and his hand movements become more frenzied.

She yelled in pain, allowing him to press her back flush against his chest, and she figured he must have taken his shirt off before he unzipped his pants. She felt her ass being fucked raw, and her swollen clit was throbbing from the attention it was receiving. She felt her orgasm start to come on, and she was glad she felt her walls started to contract, as Remus's pace was getting less and less controlled.

"Come on," he urged, biting down again, in the same spot he'd just drawn blood from, illiciting an even worse cry of pain from Hermione. "I can tell you like this."

"I do," she breathed. "And I'm close."

"I never thought a woman would let me do this, let alone enjoy it," Remus said between labored breaths.

She couldn't respond to him, didn't have the energy or the will, as the different sensations she was feeling caused stars to explode in front of her eyes, as she came with a feeling she'd never felt before.

Remus soon followed, shooting his seed into her ass, allowing her to fall back forward onto the bed, and collapsing partially on top of her.

"Thank you," he said, breathing heavily.

"You just keep doing what you're doing," she said, closing her eyes sleepily, as he pulled out of her and nudged her forward onto the bed, feeling his cum squishing between the cheeks of her buttocks. "Because it makes me feel as good as it makes you feel."

He slid up beside her and slapped her sore bum once, before he laid down next to her, on his side so that he could face her. Even through her sleepy, sated gaze, she could see him grin from ear-to-ear. He seemed to admire his handiwork for a moment, before he pulled her into his arms, kissing the top of her head and placing it in the crook of his neck, covering them both up with his blanket.

"I don't even think it's the sex," he admitted, "although it is phenomenal."

"Mmm?" she asked, giggling.

"I think it's you," he said in a small voice, a smaller voice than she'd heard since she'd first gotten here. "I think 'Wolfy,' as you called him, thinks he's found his mate."

Unable to comprehend the seriousness in his tone, she nodded, a grin splaying across her lips. "Tell Wolfy we can only be sexual playmates, because my heart's already been coupled with his master's."

"I love you, Hermione," he said, seriously.

"I love you, too, Remus," she replied, craning her head to meet his eyes. "But just in case you've fucked my brains out, and I'm unable to fully appreciate this moment, tell me again tomorrow, yeah?"

"Okay," he said, laughing. "Now go to sleep."

"Only if you promise me lots of dreams of Wolfy," she murmured, settling into her spot in his chest again. "None of _It_. None of the Keeper of Time. Only Wolfy, not the thing that's trying to kill you and Sirius and Fred and Snape and everyone else. Only Wolfy."

She felt Remus stiffen, and that was the last thing she remembered before she drifted off into a satisfied sleep, mumbling words of adoration to him.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Next chapter, we skip ahead quite a bit in the timeline and return to some action. Let me know if you enjoyed the fluff break and the rapid posting of chapters.


	17. Day 98 Part One

**Chapter 16: Day 98/180 Part One**

She was pacing the room, biting her nails, all of the bad habits she'd had in the past popping up once more. Her inner cheek was chewed raw and bleeding, her lips swollen, her hair coming out in tufts because of all of the pulling. He was supposed to have been back by now. Ten days ago, in fact. Dumbledore had said it. Dumbledore had said it. He had said that Percy and Frank were to come back from their mission before the new term started at Hogwarts.

Dumbledore had fucking said it. He'd said it. He'd said it without a shadow of a doubt, without worry in his mind. He'd said it. He'd said it was mostly fact-finding, that they were to have pre-scheduled meetings with people in different areas, that they were to check in every time they reached a new location. Hermione hadn't been worried, because the coded letters had come on time, every time, letting them know they were safe.

Except this time, when they were scheduled to take a portkey back to England, they'd missed it. Attempts to contact them had led to owls never returning. And _that _was what scared Hermione most of all. If they had a small hang-up, the owls would have at least found them and come back, but... the owls had disappeared. Just like Frank and Percy had disappeared.

Even though Dumbledore had _said_ that they would be -

"Hermione," said the gentle voice of Remus Lupin, trying to calm her.

She briefly stopped, before she continued pacing Dumbledore's office at Hogwarts, where Remus, Sirius, Alice, McGonagall, and the Headmaster himself sat in a strained silence.

Suddenly, she stopped, and turned to Dumbledore, shaking her head rapidly. "I'm sorry, Professor. I can't just wait any longer. It's been ten days since we've had contact. _Ten days._"

"Hermione," Sirius tried this time, standing up and placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "If Dumbledore thinks it's best to wait, let's just wait."

"Easy for you to say," she accused, her Gryffindor temper flaring. "_You _- _none _of you know the extent of this. You don't know how much danger Percy's in. And you don't care. Why should you? You don't know him. Why _would _you stick your necks out for him? Just another Weasley. Disposable to you."

"Miss Granger," McGonagall said, shocked, looking to Dumbledore for support.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled sadly, clearly disappointed in her, but unwilling to say anything because he knew she was emotional.

"If you're going after them, I'm coming, too," Alice said firmly, standing up. "Frank is... Frank _has _to be okay."

"They were in Brazil when we lost contact, right?" Hermione asked. "I know a bit of Portuguese, and I have some spells that might be useful in track-"

"Sit down, please," Dumbledore requested gently, stroking his beard and sighing.

Hermione and Alice automatically obeyed, startled that Dumbledore had interrupted their ranting.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said soothingly. "I was afraid of asking too much about the future, for I believe it best not to meddle with time, but perhaps my fear is held with a certain amount of naivety."

"What do you mean, Professor?" Remus asked, blinking up at his old headmaster.

"I believe that the rules of time traveling, in this particular instance, may not be steadfast, as the timeline has already been altered beyond repair," Dumbledore hypothesized airily, his light blue eyes meeting Hermione's chocolate ones.

"That can't be," Sirius scoffed. "She's not stupid enough to try to bend time. Besides, time always restores itself. Everyone knows that."

Dumbledore regarded Sirius with a sad smile, shaking his head. "Under normal circumstances, you would be correct, dear boy, but with powerful enough magic, the very fabric of the universe can be torn to sunder."

Hermione felt frozen to her chair, unable to believe that Dumbledore had actually caught onto her, if he hadn't known from the beginning and was keeping the knowledge to himself as a courtesy to her.

"That can't be possible, can it?" Alice asked, furrowing her eyebrows, looking at Dumbledore.

"I've only known one wizard, in all my years, who has had both the patience and the power to master the art of time travel," Dumbledore said, with a small smile. "And I believe Miss Granger knows of this wizard as well."

"Sir Edward Witlingham," she said softly, bowing her head.

"Hermione?" Remus asked, softly. "You haven't done - ?"

"One of the finest Hufflepuffs in house history," Dumbledore said, ignoring Remus's inquiry. "So tell me, Miss Granger, how it is you came to meet Edward."

She hesitated, before firmly shaking her head.

"You're right, of course," Dumbledore said, nodding promptly. "If you don't mind, let's just talk about what alterations in the timeline you've made, how long you've been running from the Keeper, and how close he is to you."

"You're bloody mental," Sirius exclaimed, standing up, his chair flying backward. "You can't be so _stupid _as to have actually _changed _the timeline."

"I had to," she said weakly, shaking her head. "There were so many dead. Too many dead. I didn't think I was harming anyone."

"Oh God," Alice said, shaking her head furiously.

"Sirius, you were one of the people she saved. And me. And one of Percy's younger twin brothers, who's just been born," Remus mumbled quietly.

"What?" Hermione asked startled, turning around in shock. "How did you know?"

"You mumbled it once, right before you went to sleep," he said, guiltily. "You've said other things as well - talking about the Keeper of Time and the Philosopher's Stone, which I thought wasn't real."

"I've seen it. I've held it. I've touched it. I've seen what it's capable of," she said, looking up at Dumbledore. "Dumbledore knows. He's the one who's got it now."

McGonagall looked at Hermione sharply, and if looks could kill, she wouldn't have to worry about the Keeper getting her, because McGonagall would have already finished her off. Dumbledore, on the other hand, just looked at her with a strange smile she couldn't place, his eyes back to twinkling in amusement.

"We humans have interesting minds, don't you think, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked, throwing her for a loop.

"Yes, I would agree with that," she replied. She'd found the love for psychology when she had to learn the subtle art of manipulating people.

"I, for one, feel like an old milk maid, craning her head over the fence in a helplessly nosy fashion, trying to overhear something that's none of my business. I'm just _itching _to know what other knowledge has been bestowed upon you, just as I'm sure Misters Black and Lupin and Mrs. Longbottom are waiting to hear about the Philosopher's Stone," he said, smiling.

"And yet, they're not going to ask, because we've imparted just a bit of fear unto them by mentioning an unknown force that even you, Sir, are wary of," she finished, sharing an amused smile with her old headmaster.

"And why am I not going to ask you what I want to know, not in the company of friends or even while alone?" Dumbledore asked.

She shook her head, still smiling. "Neither a Hogwarts education or Unspeakable training has been enough to help me decipher your intentions, Sir. I fear you're someone who will always be beyond my understanding."

Dumbledore laughed a warm laugh and offered her a piece of candy from his hand. She took it.

"Miss Granger, you're going to puff up my head bigger than the time Professor McGonagall complimented my new aqueous robes," Dumbledore said.

Hermione blinked, tilting her head to the side. What the hell were aqueous robes? She didn't dare ask, but she figured McGonagall might be fond of something that's an example of permanent transfiguration.

"Nevertheless, I'm not so difficult to understand," he said, simply. "You'll understand soon, I'm sure. Until then, how about we move onto how you've come about changing the timeline."

She hesitated again. Giving out privileged information from the Department of Mysteries was treasonous and could lead to imprisonment at Azkaban. But she figured she no longer had a choice, and to be honest, she would trust the people in this room to protect her with their lives. She needed to get some of this off her chest.

She sighed and nodded.

"D'you mind if we use your pensieve, Sir? It might be easier like that," she said. "I'll be careful to filter out certain things. I can't... I can't share my work at the Department of Mysteries. This could get me in trouble, but like this, I'll be able to at least limit what you see."

"A spectacular idea, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, nodding.

As Dumbledore took out the giant basin she knew he had tucked away in his office, she began to siphon her thoughts from her mind, taking select excerpts and then pouring them into the pensieve. When ready, everyone stood, and Hermione sighed, looking around for a reassuring sign from someone, but getting none, not even from Remus.

So she dove in, waiting for everyone else to follow her, watching as they stepped into her flat black home, crowded in her tiny bedroom as they watched her wake, stretching her slender arms above her head and yawning, as she stepped out of bed.

_Hermione had fallen into a steady rhythm at the Department of Mysteries. She woke up, got dressed in a lightweight set of robes, brushed her teeth, and set off for work. When she arrived there, she'd either wait for Percy by the south lift, or he'd be waiting for her. Depending on which day it was, she'd either be carrying two cups of coffee, his black with a bit of sugar, hers with soy milk but unsweet, or he'd be carrying two cups of tea, hers with a bit of milk in it. No matter what day it was, he'd always have a brown bag filled with two plastic containers, containing breakfast from Molly, which she'd handed over to Arthur with strict instructions to give to Percy._

_ Percy walked up to Hermione, with the bag in hand, laughter quietly spilling from his lips as they boarded the elevator. "Charlie's visiting from Romania, and Bill, Fleur, and the kids are staying at the Burrow while he's in the country. Needless to say, pregnant Fleur and Charlie have managed to eat my parents out of house, home, and sausage. To compensate, Mum's packed us twice the egg and spinach omelet and twice the bacon."_

_ She laughed, shaking her head. "Your mum has the kindest heart, but with seven children, I guess I shouldn't be surprised that she doesn't remember your spinach allergy."_

_ "Or your hatred of bacon," he said, and they both shared a laugh._

_ "Well, I'm not a Weasley, so I can't blame her too much for not remember _my _preferences," she defended, as they reached their floor with a loud 'DING!'_

_ "Not for lack of Mum trying," he said cheekily, as he stepped forward and examined a stack of broomsticks leaning up against the wall. "I guess we need these?"_

_ Hermione looked at the brooms with a loud sigh and grabbed one. "Harley knows I hate flying. He's doing this in spite of me, because he overhead me saying that he changes clothing more times a day than the whole of the Witches Weekly editorial staff combined."_

_ "I think he's just bored with the normal barriers to protect the department," Percy said, as he mounted a broom, and they both kicked off._

"What is this?" Alice asked, turning to the non-pensieve Hermione.

Hermione laughed and shook her head. "The Department of Mysteries has certain secrets it likes to keep protected, and my boss likes to make sure no one can get through. Plus, he's an advocate for keeping Unspeakables on their toes with different challenges."

"What happens if you don't pass?" Sirius asked, as they were forcefully moved along, as the memory Percy and Hermione battled with a Devil's snare, taking its limbs and weaving them between one another to form the shape of the department's crest.

"Dunno," Hermione said. "I've always been afraid to ask."

"Hard to imagine you being afraid to ask anything," Sirius teased, and Hermione was glad that it seemed he no longer wanted to cut her head off.

"Well," Hermione said, biting her lip. "Every time I've asked anything like that in the past, his answer has always been death."

"He's joking, right?" Alice asked, as the pensieve Hermione and Percy solved a series of puzzles on their brooms to gain entrance to the other end of the corridor.

"I don't think so," Hermione said honestly. "It's a dangerous job, and Harley has no sympathy for anyone who can't do it."

"That's illegal," Alice huffed.

"He's not actually killing anyone himself," Remus said quietly, and everyone turned to look at him. "It's like Quidditch players dying- a risk of the job."

Hermione nodded, and they turned back toward the memory.

_Percy, with his wand in his robe, extended his hands and used wandless magic to take down the specialized wards which normally kept intruders out. Once they were down, the wall revealed a small door with the employee entrance to the department. He held it open for Hermione, but she paused for a moment._

_ "... is your mum still hoping Ron and I will get back together?" she asked sheepishly._

_ "You know that she's always going to want you in the family. You and ...[_the name was drowned out by static]. _She already considers you both family, and now she's just waiting to make it official," he said, putting his arm on her shoulder reassuringly, and ushering her in._

_ "I don't think... I don't think we are," Hermione said, her voice quivering. "Ron and I... as much as I want to... as much as I love him... as much as I've loved him since we were eleven... I think it's really over. There's no changing how we feel."_

_ Percy looked at her awkwardly. It was hard for him to comment on it, since Ron was his brother, but he knew it as well. She and Percy had become good friends in the year since they'd been assigned to work on research together, and she'd confided in him that the love between she and Ron was turning platonic, as much as neither of them wanted it to. And finally, about two weeks ago, she and Ron had a long, quiet conversation in which they'd mutually decided to go back to being friends._

_ It hadn't been dramatic, and it hadn't been painful for all the classic reasons. He hadn't hurt her, and she hadn't hurt him. All was as it always had been, except that they were no longer in love. They were just too different. Still, she was used to having him with her all the time, and she was still trying to adjust to seeing him only on weekends or for dinner with Harry and Ginny, rather than round the clock._

_ "Mum's not mad at you," Percy said. "She's a bit disappointed. She's been planning your wedding since Voldemort's defeat, when you two started dating. And it's been hard on her lately, especially with the anniversary of Fred's death coming up. But she'll get over it, and she's always going to love you like a daughter."_

_ "Thanks, Perce," she said, hugging him._

_ He clasped his arms around her a little awkwardly, before he straightened himself out._

_ "Right, well," he said, coughing when she let go, a pink tinge on his cheeks. "I'm going to see if I can trade Everett and Lock their breakfasts for this. Meet you in the Room of Timelessness?"_

_ She nodded. "I'll go on ahead then."_

Hermione wished they'd had that conversation on a different day, but she knew it was necessary for them to see it, because of what happened next. She could see Remus eyeing her uncomfortably, while Alice and Sirius tried desperately to get a look at the room around them, flying teeth and eyes and creatures they'd never seen before fluttering about just outside of their field of vision. McGonagall was trying to do the same, albeit it more discreetly. Dumbledore seemed content to follow Hermione, knowing that she had carefully blocked out their surroundings and not particularly interested. He'd probably already seen all this department held already.

When they got to the room in question, which had a table with ancient books in stacks up to the ceiling on the table, and something that looked like the veil in the Death Chamber at the far end, surrounded by various stones on the floor, which were forming a barrier of energy around the veil, Hermione stopped them all at the threshold and took a deep breath in.

She looked at them and swallowed. "I'm going to warn you that this next conversation is... unsettling. But it might help you realize why I've done what I've done."

The three young wizards and witch looked at each other, but nodded, following her in.

Alice swallowed hard and asked her something she knew some of the others had been wondering about as well. "You're using a lot of magic without your wand. What is it you're doing?"

Hermione took a deep breath and averted her eyes. "A lot of what we do at the Department of Mysteries isn't exactly... _usual_. It takes a certain understanding of the make-up of spells to be able to do them wandlessly. It's tougher than using a filter, a medium like a wand, but it's necessary in our field of work. The magic, when done wandlessly, is more powerful but more dangerous, because of the lack of filter, like I've said, which is why we're trained extensively on it, _but _it's also draining on us, so... there are certain _channels _we use to stop it from depleting us of our magical essence."

"What sorts of channels?" Sirius asked, not missing a beat.

Hermione averted her eyes again. "When a magical being dies," she said uncomfortably, "its magic doesn't die with it. We... utilize this magic to perform spells that are otherwise not possible."

She heard Alice gasp, but she ignored it, turning back to the scene ahead of them when Percy entered the room with a basket of scones and a jar of jam.

_"Best I could do," he said, setting it down on the table._

_ "Thanks," she said, smiling. "I'm starving."_

_ Percy joined Hermione at the table and started buttering up a scone for himself. They chewed slowly and sat in silence, both of them glancing nervously at the clock on the wall, which now read 4:45 in the morning. They also consulted the wall with the veil nearest to it, which held a clock that seemed to be ticking in place, its arms vibrating but unmoving._

_ Tension filled the room, and Hermione stared at her nails, then back at Percy, opening her mouth._

_ "Can we really do this?" she asked, chewing on her lip. "If Harley knew, he'd kill us. Literally kill us. And if Kingsley Shacklebolt knew, he wouldn't hesitate to throw us into Azkaban."_

_ "The Minister's an Order member, first and foremost. You really think he wouldn't want this?" Percy asked, except it wasn't sarcastic. He really _was_ asking._

"Kingsley Shacklebolt's the Minister?" Alice asked. "Well, I'll be damned. Good on him."

She was hushed by a stern look from McGonagall.

_"Percy, I know we've been talking about this for months now, ever since we've started to crack it - the fabric of time - but actually doing it, actually _changing time_, for the good, on a large scale, _permanently _changing the timeline. Oh God, what are we thinking?" she cried out, as she glanced nervously again at the unmoving clock._

_ "I can't make you do this, Hermione," Percy said quietly. "And I've been trying to rationalize it every way I can, saying that it's better for the world, better for the Order, just _better_, but if we honestly thought we were doing the right thing, we wouldn't be hiding this from McGonagall or [_the name was drowned out again_] or Harley or the Minister or the Order."_

_ "But do you think they'd try to stop us because they don't want it or because they're afraid?" Hermione asked, putting her head in her hands._

_ "Because they're afraid for us, mostly. Except Harley, who'd probably be pissed that we're doing this without authorization," Percy said, deciding to crack a joke. "And McGonagall for the sake of the rules. Have you ever seen _her _afraid of anything?"_

Hermione, despite the tension in the room, heard Sirius snigger and Alice giggle. Even Dumbledore laughed a bit and added in, "you _are _fond of rules, Professor."

McGonagall, despite herself, couldn't help a small smile.

_"Percy," Hermione admonished, trying to hide her smile. "You should be more respectful of the woman. My founding principles of magic and the ethics thereof were shaped by her and Professor Dumbledore. If it wasn't for them, I wouldn't be standing here as the person I am today."_

Hermione blushed, as the people in question were standing next to her.

"Suck-up," Sirius teased, as McGonagall sniffed in pride, a small smile on her face, and even Dumbledore had a pink tinge on his cheeks at the high compliment.

"How could I be a suck-up when I never thought they'd see this?" she said stiffly, as they turned back to the memory again.

_"Come now. You know I was trying to lighten the mood. You know I have the utmost respect for both of them. If my brothers knew why I like McGonagall so much in particularly, though, they'd tease me endlessly," he said, a smile playing across his lips._

_ "Do tell," Hermione said, leaning forward. "I swear I won't tell them."_

_ "Fine," Percy said, laughter already bubbling in his throat. "When Dumbledore made me Head Boy and McGonagall pinned that badge on me, she also slipped me an unlimited pass to the Restricted Section of the library and whispered, 'I fought for you, Weasley, even though I know you snuck into both mine and Professor Flitwick's offices trying to search for a book on how to make invisibility cloaks. Don't let me down.' I nearly died of embarrassment, but then she said, 'Try the third shelf from the right in the restricted section, and make your house proud.' I couldn't believe she was actually encouraging me to do forbidden magic."_

_ "And?" Hermione asked, smiling._

_ "I figured it out and got a hundred points for Gryffindor," he said smugly._

"Wicked," Alice said, smiling.

Professor McGonagall didn't say anything, just smiled impishly.

_"I never knew that," she said, laughing. "Although I guess I shouldn't be too surprised. She's the one who got me a time-turner, too."_

_ "In the same year, wasn't it?" he asked._

_ "Actually, yes," she said. "You tried to bust me every chance you got, because you knew something was off but couldn't figure out what, for the longest time."_

_ "I was just doing my job," he said, in mock offense._

_ "Sure, sure," she answered, giggling._

_ Then, suddenly, the crystals on the floor started glowing more intensely, and one of them exploded. _


	18. Day 98 Part Two

**Chapter 17: Day 98/180 Part Two**

"What's happening?" Alice asked, as the room shook with the force of the explosion, as two more crystals burst.

"Those crystals on the floor there were enchanted using some of the wandless magic I told you about, and they're actually working to switch the world behind the veil with the one in front of it," Hermione explained. "I can't tell you any more than that, sorry."

She knew they all had more questions, but she wasn't willing to risk anything to explain what Edward had taught her or what her research as an Unspeakable led her to find.

_ They looked up at the clock again, and saw that the handle was still vibrating, trying to move, and the light-hearted conversation was once again reverted back to the previous, more serious topic._

_ "You really don't have to do this," he said, looking down at the table. "You don't have to be noble or foolish. I'm not doing this for noble reasons."_

_ "Yes you are," she insisted, a lump catching in her throat. "We're Gryffindors. We wouldn't be if we weren't all a bit addled in the brain, but our intentions are _always _noble."_

"Truer words were never spoken," Sirius said with pride.

"Should be the new house slogan," Alice said, smiling. "You should consider it, Professor McGonagall."

Hermione realized for the first time that everyone in the room was a Gryffindor. For some reason, the realization comforted her, and she smiled, steeling herself for what would be happening soon.

_"But I'm more selfish," Percy said. "He wouldn't have died if it wasn't for me, you know? It should have been me."_

_ "No one blames you," Hermione said firmly. "No one blames you for Fred's death, just like no one blames [_static blocked out what was being said, as Hermione had made sure to block out the bit where she said that no one blamed Snape for Dumbledore's death or no one blamed Harry_] for Sirius's death or Lupin's death or Tonk's death. The list is endless. Even Dobby and Hedwig were casualties of a senseless blood war, started by an irrational, power-driven monster of a wizard."_

_ "But you know that the Keeper of Time is going to be chasing after us, trying to restore the timeline, before it considers us worthy and lets it settle in," Percy reminded. "You're too good, Hermione. You don't deserve that."_

_ "I want them back," Hermione said firmly. "We can't bring them all back, but we can bring some of them back. They fought for us, and they died for our cause. After a year of research and endless experiments in this room, using that veil as a portal, changing tiny things and seeing how they would have changed the course of things, we've _finally _managed to find a change that will bring back twenty-three innocents, some of them Order members, without changing the outcome of the war or costing any other lives in the process. We owe it to them to do this."_

_ "It isn't costing any other lives, but it is changing things we could possibly not know about. And it's throwing the timeline out of homeostasis. One slip-up, and we could destroy everything. And we don't know how this change is going to affect us," Percy said, flinching as another of the crystals exploded._

_ Only one was left now._

_ "Were you trying to talk me out of doing it or talk yourself into doing it?" Hermione mused, as she stood up from the chair and wiped breadcrumbs off her robes._

_ "You're right," he said, following suite, and he walked up to the veil. "One crystal left, and everything changes. But..."_

_ "But we're the only ones who know it," she finished. "Ready?"_

_ "Ready," he nodded, and they stood by the veil, muttering an incantation, as the last crystal burst._

_ A wind picked up around them, and they continued their chanting, until the wind stopped. They tilted their head up, and they saw the handle on the clock tick backwards one second, before it started going forward, lined up with the other one in the room._

_ Neither bother asking if what they had done worked, as they both felt comfortable in their abilities, even if they were unsure of the exact outcomes._

_ "Hmm," Hermione mused, walking back over to the table, which now had a brown bag on the center of it, with two plates of eggs and sausage on it, from Mrs. Weasley. "I guess Charlie and Fleur didn't eat all the sausage this time."_

_ "Guess not," Percy said, in amusement. "I guess I'll have to check to be sure, but I think Mum still wanted me to ask you if you wanted to come over for dinner tonight."_

_ "I'd love to. Charlie and Bill always have the most interesting stories to tell about their jobs," she replied, ironically, sitting back down at the table to spear a sausage. "You think your entire family will be there?"_

_ Percy looked suddenly nervous. "I hope so."_

_ "If they are, then Fred will be there, you know?" Hermione asked, slowly. "Things will be exactly as we saw them through the veil, before we swapped our manufactured universe with this one. That means Angelina will be married to _Fred_, so you can't gawk. And you probably shouldn't burst into tears either. They'll think it very strange."_

_ "I know," he said, although his eyes were already watering. "I'll do my best to save it for the next Order meeting."_

_ "Good," she said, smiling tenderly at him. "You fancy dropping in on _Professors _Black and Lupin for lunch?"_

_ He laughed in a carefree way and nodded. "That'll be strange to see."_

_ "Won't it?" she asked, with a smile. "I bet Sirius is driving [_static covered up Snape's name instead of Harry's this time_] mad."_

_ "Now I can't wait for dinner _or _lunch," he said, and they both laughed as the memory ended._

"Where are we now?" Alice asked. "Did we fall out of the pensieve?"

"No," Hermione answered nervously. "This is two years later."

_Hermione and Percy were seated with an exasperated-looking McGonagall, in the meeting room behind the Great Hall. He had her hand grasped in his, underneath the table. She looked shaken, but he looked as brave as ever, ready to face their upcoming mission. They were seated in silence, as Professor McGonagall looked once more at her watch._

_ "For heaven's sake," she complained, tapping her slender fingers on the table and looking between the two empty chairs at the table and the door._

_ As if on cue, the door burst open, and Sirius and Remus appeared, out of breath, wearing black robes, the Gryffindor crest sewn to Remus's._

_ "Sorry about that, Minerva," Sirius said smoothly, winking at Hermione before he sat down in one of the empty chairs. "Caught some firsties out past curfew. Couldn't find their way back to their common room."_

_ "Who was it?" she asked sternly, looking up at the clock. It was past ten. "Did you give them detention?"_

_ "Of course not," Sirius replied. "They were Gryffin-"_

_ "He meant it was an honest mistake," Remus said, speaking over his friend. "Hello, Percy, Hermione."_

_ "Hello, Remus," Hermione said warmly, beaming up at him, enjoying the mischief that was twinkling in his eyes. "You look well."_

_ Remus and Sirius seemed to be in their element at Hogwarts, Sirius teaching Remus's old post, Defense, and Remus now taking over McGonagall's old one teaching transfiguration. It was meant to be a temporary arrangement for Sirius after the war, while Hogwarts rebuilt and McGonagall restaffed, but it turned permanent, as Sirius really took to it._

_ "I feel that way, Hermione, thanks," he replied softly, sitting down in the other empty chair._

_ "Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall started, then sighed deeply. "Hermione, Percy, you're leaving tomorrow. I just wanted to make sure you're alright with what's about to happen."_

_ "Well, Professor, if I'm to be honest, I'd prefer it if I could have more details of the mission, but since you and Professor Dumbledore both seem to believe it necessary to shield us from the details and send us in blind, I guess I don't really have much of a choice in the circumstances surrounding this mission," she said, looking up to meet her mentor's gaze. "I'm sorry. I really don't mean to be snitty about it, but it's a bit frustrating, as you can imagine."_

_ "All I can tell you, Miss Granger, is that were you to know the details of your journey, you may become nervous or hesitant to repeat your same course of actions, and we cannot have that," she said gently._

_ "I know I've put everything at danger by changing things, but I wouldn't do it at the spur of the moment," she argued. "I'll repeat whatever I need to do. I'm just nervous I won't if I don't know what it is that I'm supposed to be doing."_

_ "It's a delicate situation, Hermione," Remus said gently, smiling at her in that way that always made her squirm. "It's for your own benefit. It really is."_

_ "What's so bad that you think I'm going to chicken out?" she asked bluntly._

_ "Nothing bad," Sirius said smoothly, a smirk on his face. "Nothing bad at all."_

_ "Sirius," Remus warned darkly._

_ "Miss Granger, if your timeline is starting to settle into permanence, there will come an opportunity for you to share two memories with us, this being the latter of them. Do so, and when you do, read the message carefully, and take it to heart. It is very important."_

_ "What message?" Hermione asked curiously._

_ "You'll know when the time comes," McGonagall said sternly._

As if on cue, behind Hermione and Percy, a message appeared out of tufts of silvery white smoke, as if written by an airplane. They all turned to it, and Hermione's eyed widened when she read what it said.

"Do not go after them. Be patient."

_"Is there anything I should know, Professor?" Percy asked, although he seemed more lax about the entire situation._

_ "Mr. Weasley, your mission will be to accompany Frank Longbottom. You are not to leave his side under any circumstances," she said stiffly, and then her face softened almost imperceptibly. "Professor Dumbledore will be meeting with you beforehand. Follow his directives."_

_ "Understood, Professor," Percy said. "Thank you for everything. Now, may I be excused? I promised my brothers I would meet with them tonight, and I'm already hours late."_

_ "Sure, Mr. Weasley," she said warmly. "Give your regards to them for me."_

_ "I will, Professor. Thank you," Percy said, standing up, and turning toward Hermione. "I'll stop by your place when I'm done."_

_ "Don't hurry," she whispered. "I'll wait up."_

_ He smiled warmly at her, and then curtly to the others, before he exited the room._

_ "Professor, I have something to ask you, and I'll understand if you can't answer me," Hermione said, once Percy was out of the room. "Two years ago, when all of this happened, and I explained the brief details to the Order, you were surprised. But now, you seem to know more than you're letting on. Do you know _everything_?"_

_ McGonagall looked tired, like Dumbledore had on the last few occasions of his life, and she sighed. "Miss Granger, when you initially told us, we were surprised. But now, we do, as you've hypothesized so astutely, know more than we're able to say."_

_ "Does that mean that the timeline is finally starting to finalize, and in the past, I've told you more about this than what I've told you in the present?" she asked._

_ "Brilliant girl," Sirius said, with a smile. "You were beyond your years at thirteen, but your intellect has only grown."_

_ She turned sharply to Sirius, who had a wide smile on his face._

_ "So, it's true then. We're almost out of trouble. If we complete this task, it's not going to take another six months after. The Keeper of Time will finally acknowledge us as worthy, and our timeline will stay," she said, her expression suddenly darkening. "As long as nothing out of the ordinary happens in the past."_

_ "You'll do well, Hermione," Remus said, pride in his voice. "Have faith in yourself and remember that help is available should you need it."_

_ "And when I come back, all of your memories will be replaced," she said, blinking. "I wonder if there's anything you don't remember about the past that you'll know once I come back and the swap is complete. Other than where exactly we land and under what circumstances we return."_

_ "Time is a complicated matter, as you know better than any of us," McGonagall said gently. "But you've done well, my dear girl, and as Remus said, you'll continue the trend, I'm sure."_

And they were booted out of the pensieve, left on the floor of the headmaster's office. She couldn't believe it, couldn't believe the tiny trail of smoke that had come shooting underneath her chair and had hovered behind her. And if she wasn't mistaken, it had come from the Headmistress's wand.

When she lifted her head to look around the room, she was glad to see that she wasn't the only one who had been blown away by what they'd seen, although the others seemed more shocked. Except for Dumbledore, who had a suddenly more cheery expression on his face. Almost suspiciously so.

"There you have it, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, helping her up to her feet, a smile on his face.

"I guess we just have to be patient?" she asked, looking at Alice, who had turned white. She nodded in agreement.

She looked like she wanted to say something, but she didn't. She just turned around and walked out the headmaster's office without another word.

"Professor Dumbledore, I just have one question to ask you, if you don't mind," Hermione said, feebly.

"I'll answer to the best of my ability," he said, as he returned to his seat behind his desk.

"When you sent Frank and Percy off, did you give them any special... _directives_?" she asked, remembering McGonagall's odd choice of words.

"They were ordered to investigate further, at their leisure, since they would be going under cover in some situations. I told them to avoid being caught at all costs," he said seriously.

"So if they're in too deep, then..." she trailed off.

"They wouldn't be able to receive or respond to our owls, no," McGonagall answered.

"Okay," Hermione said, shaking as she stood up. "I'll put my faith in you, Professors, since you've never proven me wrong in that decision before."

"Thank you, Hermione," Dumbledore said softly. "And thank you for proving us correct in our decision to have faith in you, both now, and in the future."

A lump formed in her throat, and she jumped across the desk, bending down to give Dumbledore a fierce hug. Dumbledore returned her embrace, and Hermione knew that he must have realized he was _not _one of the people who could be saved in the future, and he was alright with that.

She stood back up slowly, and wiped a tear out of her eye, before she unexpectedly embraced Professor McGonagall as well. The older woman, who clearly held Hermione in a much higher regard now, returned the embrace stiffly, and gave her a rare, warm smile.

She then walked toward the door with her head down, and exited.

She heard Remus and Sirius follow behind her silently. She figured it must have been a shock to learn that they had died and that she had saved him, but oddly enough, the words out of Sirius's mouth had to do with neither.

"I'm a Professor? _Really_?" he asked, scratching his head. "What is it I teach?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," she replied, feeling a sharp stabbing pain in her head, as they discussed it.

"Am I any good?" he asked. "With the students, I mean. I never saw myself as a professor."

She paused her walk, then turned to smile at him reassuringly. "I didn't have you, but your students come out capable and well-educated. And you're fairly popular with the student body as well. I think I heard you brag that you hold the record for the most chocolates received on one day by any Hogwarts professor, and it was on your birthday. It was mostly by female students."

"I age well, I see," he said, clearly pleased with his appearance.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. Of course he aged well. Bone structure didn't change with age, and he was still in his youth by wizarding standards. He still had another fifty years before he'd hit middle age.

"What about Remus?" Sirius asked, when he saw Hermione eyeing her boyfriend worriedly, although he seemed to be too busy staring at the ground to say anything.

"He teaches Transfiguration," she said warmly. "And he's head of Gryffindor."

"Head of a house," Sirius said, excitedly. "You'd love that sort of thing, wouldn't you, Moony?"

"I can't imagine being an appropriate choice," he muttered quietly.

"Before McGonagall stopped teaching, you were actually the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor my third year, and you were everyone's favorite professor," Hermione said quietly. "Mine included."

"Because they don't know what I am," he said darkly.

"I knew," she said quickly. "And so did my friends. And by the end of Voldemort's reign, so did all your students. And no one really made a fuss. You're a good teacher, Remus, and I know that from experience. Just like I know you're a good man."

"You're not too shabby in twenty years either, Moony," Sirius added.

"Who's Ron?" he asked, ignoring Sirius.

"And that's my cue to go," Sirius said, skipping off, happy with the knowledge that young witches were mad about him.

She stepped forward, her eyes furrowed. "Is that why you won't look me in the eyes right now?"

He looked up finally, clearly upset.

"I didn't take the memory back that far to make you jealous," she said, taking his hand. "I took it back that far so you could see how intertwined I am with the Weasley family, how selfish my actions were, and so you could see how much I've risked, stupidly, to do all this."

"You're not selfish at all," he said, shaking his head. "You saved us all."

"Not everyone," she muttered, tearing welling up in her eyes, as she thought of Dumbledore and James and Lily. "Some people... some people I couldn't save. As much as I wanted to."

He embraced her with a sigh, holding her tightly against his warm flesh. "Like Dumbledore?"

She began to cry, unable to deny her knowledge of it, unable to do anything but let out the tears that had been threatening to spill out of her eyes since the moment she laid eyes on her former headmaster.

"You mumbled it in your sleep once," he said. "It's okay. I think Dumbledore knows, too, and he's not upset."

"He's the greatest wizard to have ever lived," she said, sobbing into his robes.

"He seems to think highly of you, too," he said. "As do we all. And we didn't even know you saved so many of us. That just proves how gifted you are, and if you couldn't save everyone, there must be a reason for it that's beyond the power of magic."

"But there are so many consequences. Like the witch who was brutalized. She never should have been captured," Hermione admitted, saying out loud the words she'd been thinking all along.

Remus sighed heavily and held onto her tighter, letting her cry.

"It's okay," he cooed. "It's okay."

"And Ron has been my best friend since I was eleven," she cried. "I had a crush on him for a long time, and we finally started dating after the war. Two years into it, we both realized there was no spark. It was platonic. And we went back to being friends. I just didn't want his mum to be mad at me, because she's like my second mum, and I was afraid I'd be shunned. His family is just so important to me."

"Shhh," he said. "It's okay."

"And then I went and slept with two of his brothers, and if his mum knew, she'd hate me. Or want me to marry one of them, but I can't marry them, when I don't love them," she went on, sobbing. "I mean, I love all of them. I was even _in _love with Ron for a while, but I'm not in love with any of them anymore. I can't be when all I think about all the time is _you _and how much I love _you_, and how worried I am that everything will be different when I go back.

"And that's why I keep letting you bite me everywhere, even though I know that the marking is permanent, because bites from werewolves, even when they're in human form, if they're feral enough, can't be healed even with magic. So I know I'll have your bite marks forever, but I keep letting you bite me, even though I know you're going to feel bad about it, because I'm secretly hoping that when I go back in my time, Wolfy will still recognize me as yours. And that's selfish, because I think you might be dating someone else. But I don't want you to be. I just want to be with you forever."

Remus stopped stroking her back, and he pulled away from her at arm's length, shocked at her confession.

She sniffled, her eyes bloodshot from tears.

"Hermione," he said, softly. "Twenty years is going to be sure to change me. I might be a completely different man. Do you realize what you're saying?"

She peered up at him, her big brown eyes staring dejectedly into his. "You might be a little different, but you're not really, because what you just said sounds exactly like something you'd say in the future."

"How well do you know me in the future?" he asked, hesitantly.

"Not as well as I know you here, but I want to," she said. "Whatever changes come with age, I can deal with, because essentially, you're still the same person, and I had a huge crush on you when I was younger anyway."

"You know, I've never marked a witch I've been with before," he said. "But I can't control myself around you."

"Me either," she said honestly.

"I said it once before, but I think you might have been only half-conscious, so I'll say it again," he said, looking her in the eyes seriously. "The wolf inside has picked you as his mate for life, and I think the man who hosts him is bound to the same sort of agreement."

"I love you," she said, embracing him.

"And I, you," he replied, leaning down to kiss her. "And I, you."


	19. Day 123

**Chapter 18: Day 123/180**

It'd been a month since Percy and Frank had gone missing, and every time Hermione made up her mind to go after them, she got a friendly reminder from Remus or Sirius or McGonagall herself to not do it. Still, it was frustrating, because she didn't know where they were or what they were doing. And to make it worse, her missions since then had been minor, as Dumbledore wanted to keep her mostly out of the field. He was worried that the Deatheaters might have caught wind of the witch who had brought almost an entire safehouse down by herself, ruthlessly snapping all the protecting Deatheathers' wands in half, and might seek to capture her, to make an example of her.

Hermione, a bit recklessly, had scoffed at the idea, and said she'd dare them to try it, when she'd faced Voldemort himself. McGonagall had flinched when she'd said that, and Dumbledore had regarded her with an amused smile, asking her if she could think of any other way to make herself useful while staying cooped up under watchful eyes.

Begrudgingly, she'd started spending a lot of time at Hogwarts, trying her best to stay out of the way of students, while using the old Potions classroom as a place of refuge as she brewed all sorts of potions for the Order, some of them too complex for the others to brew themselves, and some of them simply to save other Order members the hassle of having to brew them for themselves. In addition to the Wolfsbane Potion she continued to brew for Remus, she made several healing elixirs, antidotes to everything from spells to veritaserum, several batches of veritaserum, exploding potions, blood-replenishing potions, calming draughts, dreamless sleep potions, a few poisons (just in case), fire protection potions, spell protection potions, invisibility potions, memory potions, befuddlement draughts, etc, etc.

Remus had taken to coming with her when he could, in order to better himself at the art of potions-brewing, and she'd even tried to teach him to brew the Wolfsbane potion himself, but as much as she loved him, he was useless at Potions. He was better than she was at Transfiguration, and he had a knack for Herbology that she had never been able to grasp (even cultivating a Wolfsbane plant for her, when she thought previously that the plant only grew in the wild), but his potions were always slightly off of what they were supposed to look like, and with a potion as delicate as Wolfsbane, which could easily be poisonous, she didn't risk it.

So he'd helped her with the grade-school potions but sat out when it came to the more time-consuming, exact ones.

When she wasn't at Hogwarts, she was spending her time with James, Lily, Alice, Marlene, and Sirius. While she'd liked Alice instantly, they'd become even better friends after the ordeal in Dumbledore's office. Alice felt like she could talk to Hermione about the pain of not knowing what was happening with a loved one, and Hermione began to like the woman even more, making the knowledge that she'd be tortured into insanity soon all-the-more haunting.

Hermione tried to think of any possible changes in the timeline she could make to prevent this from happening, but she knew it'd be both stupid and useless to continue thinking about it. She loved Neville Longbottom dearly, and she had already tried to address his parents' situation just as she'd tried to address Harry's parents' situation, but it all came down to one of those fundamental things that just couldn't be messed with if the outcome to the war was going to be the same. If Hermione stopped the attack on the Longbottoms, as she and Percy had tried during one of their experiment, there would be no choice for Voldemort to make in terms of which child the prophecy was speaking of - Harry or Neville. The outcome was that Voldemort attacked the Potters sooner, before Lily was able to cast her protection unto Harry, and they all died, making Voldemort unable to be coped with.

In a world where Lily and James didn't die, either Harry did, or Neville did, still making Voldemort victorious.

Her grueling months of scenarios and playing with probabilities taught her one thing, if nothing else, and that was that they were _extremely _lucky that things had turned out as well as they had. It was heartbreaking to know that Sirius would still spend time on-the-run from the law and that Remus would still be an outcast for years of his life, that James and Lily would die, that Dumbledore would die, and that Frank and Alice would lose their core essence, but... she didn't take for granted the time she had with them, the time that Neville and Harry would be jealous of.

There was one thing that was starting to worry her, and that was the building tension she saw with Lily and James. She didn't know what was going on, but all of a sudden, her joke of a primary mission became something much less funnier, when James and Sirius had left on a mission with Lily barely looking at James when he left.

She didn't think this was a good sign, and at the moment, James was going so far as to spend the night drinking with Remus and Sirius in the kitchen instead of being at home with his wife.

Hermione had decided to leave them alone, but as she passed the kitchen, she couldn't help but overhear one part of James's melancholy musings.

"... she regrets marrying me," he said, with a pathetic sob. "Something's been off for months. She gets these owls. Won't tell me where they're coming from. Doesn't even bother to lie. Just tells me it's to a friend. But they've become almost daily. And when I came back early from the mission last week, she wasn't home. Didn't get home until late. Just said she hadn't expected me back yet. Then got touchy when I tried to ask where she was."

Hermione's heart broke for the man, and when she tried to enter the room to say something, Sirius saw her, and shook his head firmly, telling her to turn back around and walk away. She swallowed but nodded, and then motioned that she was going to go out. Sirius nodded at her.

Hermione took the opportunity to walk out the door, down the path, and disapparate to Lily Potter's residence in Godric's Hollow.

It was cold out, the wind cutting through her thin, Muggle clothing, so she was grateful that the door opened almost instantly to reveal an equally distraught-appearing Lily Potter.

Lily ushered her in and warded the door behind her again, obviously surprised that the person at the other end hadn't been James.

Lily led her to their living room, where she sat down on a comfortable, leather couch, covering herself up with a blanket, and mumbling to Hermione that she could help herself to a cup of tea.

"James is at Awry Place, drinking himself into oblivion," Hermione said simply, as she sat down next to Lily and pulled part of the oversized blanket onto her.

"I figured he'd be there or at Sirius's flat," she said, not meeting Hermione's eyes. "He's never just walked out on me before, without saying where he was going."

"What happened?" Hermione asked carefully.

Lily looked at Hermione, sizing her up, trying to decide how much Hermione already knew, before finally sighing.

"You remember how I told you I wanted to meet up with my friend Severus but was nervous to actually do it?" she asked.

"I do," Hermione said, her sinking feeling that that's who the friend Lily'd been owling confirmed. "I also remember that you told me you wanted me to come along, but then you never said anything more about it."

Lily looked at the ground guiltily. "I wound up running into Severus in Diagon Alley before that happened, and we did a bit of shopping together - some books, a few potions ingredients, things like that."

"And then?" Hermione pressed, feeling that the exchange wasn't left at that.

"It was like old times," she said, her eyes lighting up. "Except he seemed a bit more confident, like he'd finally found his place in life."

Hermione's stomach sank. Yes, he'd found it alright - just with the wrong people. And that happiness wouldn't last for long, for with Lily's death came a lifetime of regrets.

"He asked me to meet him at that place I took you to, where he and I used to play as children, and we talked. He- he's lost his way, but I'm trying to convince him to meet with Dumbledore. I told him that if anyone could help him, it'd be Dumbledore," Lily said, nervously.

"And what'd he say?" she asked, already knowing how things turned out but pandering to Lily's scattered train of thought anyway.

"He said he couldn't, that he'd be killed," Lily said, sadly. "But I think there's something more to it that he's not telling me."

Like that it wasn't his own life that he was worried about, perhaps. Like it was perhaps _her _life that he was looking out for, that he was using his assets to his advantage, exchanging his very soul for her life.

"How often have you been meeting with him?" she asked in exasperation, rubbing her forehead.

"Just once a week," Lily said, looking down, her voice growing quieter. "But we owl almost every day."

Hermione took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She'd already known the answers to her questions, of course, but she wanted to see if Lily would confirm it. If she did, then she felt guilty over hiding it and wanted to tell someone but not guilty because she'd done something particularly wrong. If she denied it, then Hermione had to worry about something more sinister. Good-natured people like Lily Potter were easy to figure out, although it killed her to admit it. They were a five minute lesson in psychology away from understanding.

"Why haven't you told James?" Hermione asked after a long pause.

"I can't," she said softly.

"Why not?" Hermione asked, meeting Lily's emerald eyes which were the exact shade and shape of Harry's. "You and James - all your arguing - this has been the cause of it, hasn't it? The secrecy? He's not dumb, you know."

"I _know _that," Lily argued heatedly. "I realize that he's noticed, and I _know _he tried to be good about it at first, like he has ever since we started dating. He trusts me, and he tried to give me privacy and wait for me to come to him, even though the curiosity was killing him, even though I think he suspects it's Severus I've been speaking with. But then, we started arguing because of the tension, and he snapped at me, and I haven't been able to bring myself to tell him since."

"Oh Lily," Hermione groaned, in exasperation. "You can't let this go on. From what you've told me, James and Severus have a rocky past, and he probably feels like you're choosing another man over him."

"I'd never choose anyone over James," she said quietly. "Not that I should have to choose between my best friend and my husband."

"James doesn't know that," Hermione argued. "He doesn't know you'd never choose anyone over him, and right now, from the outside perspective, I can see why he thinks you wouldn't."

"You don't understand," she cried.

"I'll understand if you'll try to explain," Hermione said roughly, "but to be frank, I'm not the one who needs to. It's James who you've to speak to, if you don't want your marriage to fall apart."

"Is it that bad?" Lily asked, guilt pouring into her words.

Hermione shook her head. "Not yet, but it's not going to get better like this. James is sitting at Awry right now, drinking himself into a stupor, and _crying _because he thinks you regret marrying him."

"James thinks that?" Lily asked, clearly shocked that James would even consider that. "I'd _never _regret marrying him. He's the great love of my life. He's my everything. I want him to father my children."

Hermione sighed again and shook her head.

"You're telling the wrong person, Lily," Hermione reminded. "Let's go there."

"You're right," Lily said, standing up. "You're right, of course. He's only a man, and I've probably driven him mad with insecurities. It's my fault he's feeling like this, and I have to be upfront with him and give him the benefit of the doubt and believe he'll be understanding."

"That's all you can do," she said, nodding. "I don't know how James was when he was younger; I can only imagine from the stories I've heard, but I know how he is now. He's emotional, but he's rational."

"He is," Lily said, summoning a cloak to her. She hugged Hermione briefly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Hermione replied, and off they went.


	20. Day 124

**Chapter 19: Day 124/180**

Her intentions had been good. They really had been. She just hadn't expected what had happened following Lily's arrival at headquarters. James, at Sirius's directive, had gotten utterly smashed via locally brewed Muggle beer, and when Lily had arrived, James was no longer the puddle of tears he had been when Hermione had left. He was on the offensive, shouting his concerns at Lily rather than expressing them maturely.

They were still rather pathetic, if she said so herself, but they were now a bit too loud, and he was a bit too drunk for Lily to communicate with him.

To Lily's credit, she didn't let her own fiery temper gain control of her. She listened to him lay all of his concerns out on the table in a raw, truthful way that could only be rivaled by veritaserum, and when he had finally worn himself out, she went to the kitchen, opened up one of the cabinets Hermione had never looked in, pulled out Seymour's Super Sobering Solution, and forced it down James's throat so roughly that he nearly choked.

She sat patiently, waiting the half hour for it to take effect, James's rambling slowing down until he stopped completely. When it finally sunk in completely, he had the decency to look at his wife embarrassed, then shoot Sirius an evil look.

"Let's go home," she said gently, pulling him up to his feet. "We have some things to talk about."

"Are you going to leave me?" he asked so quietly that Hermione barely heard.

"Never," she replied, taking his hand and leading him out with a small smile. "And thanks again, Hermione."

"You're welcome," Hermione replied sheepishly. "Owl tomorrow."

"Will do," she replied before she left, tugging James along.

That left her with two drunk Marauders, who'd managed to only half pay attention to what was going on, as they were playing a wizard drinking game called Merlin, which was sort of like Kings, but with magical playing cards that enforced the rules.

"Her-my-oh-KNEE! Come plaaaaay," Sirius said, tugging her into his lap, forcing a cup with beer into her hand. She sniffed it, then took a swig herself.

"No, Padfoot," Remus slurred in a childlike way. "Hermione is _my _girlfriend."

"That's no fair," Sirius said, keeping his arms around Hermione as Remus tried to tug her toward him. "You - you always get good girls. I - I don't get good girls. You - you and James - _you _get good girls. I - I get-"

" - bad girls?" Hermione filled in for him, laughing.

"How did you knoooow?" Sirius asked with wide eyes as he nuzzled her neck.

"Lucky guess," she said, giggling.

"Well, you're the _smartest_, and you're _pretty_, and nooooooo one else has had fun - or I mean, _I've _had no... I've _never _had as much fun with another girl before like I have with you," he said. "Why d'you get her, Moony? Is it 'cause you're not related to - to anyone who's tortured anyone?"

"What?" Hermione asked, sniffing the drink he'd handed her again.

"You _always_ get girls. You can't have _my _girl," Remus said, still trying to tug at Hermione.

"_No,_" Sirius said. "You can have _alllllll _the other girls. I want her. Ever since you cried in my arms, Her-Hermione, I haven't been able to get you out of my head, but you... you didn't give me a chance. I wanted to try, but then you were already with Moony, and I love you, Hermione, but I love him more than I love you."

She blinked, mortified at what he was confessing. "What's in this drink?'

"We reckoned you might bring Lily over, so we slipped a bit of veritaserum in it. Couldn't remember which. Were a bit drunk already. So we put a bit in the entire batch," Sirius explained easily.

"I love you, too, Padfoot," Remus slurred. "And I appreciate that you didn't take Hermione away from me, but could I have her now?"

"Okay," Sirius replied, finally letting go of Hermione, who let herself be pulled into Remus's lap, although she was still gaping at Sirius.

"I don't know what to say," she said, her eyes wide. "I didn't know you felt that way, Sirius, but... like I've told you before, no one cares about your family or holds you responsible for their actions, so that's not why I'm saying what I'm about to say. I just... can't return your feelings."

"S'okay," he replied, standing up on wobbly feet. "Moony - Moony thinks that I'm better than him or something, but that's not true."

"You _are _better than me," Remus said, dropping Hermione like a sack of potatoes and standing up next to Sirius. "You're better looking and better at Charms."

"And you're better at Transfiguration," Sirius said. "And just a better person. And you got the girl, so you're better in general."

"I only got her 'cause she didn't know you were an option," Remus slurred. "If you hadn't been a wanker to her in the beginning, you could've had her. You could still have her, probably."

"No," Sirius said, shaking his head frantically. "When she walks into a room, she doesn't stop looking until she sees you. She - she's always looking at you, even when you're not looking at her. She - she loves you."

"He's right," Hermione said, blinking at the surreal, drunken sort of situation. They finally looked at her, remembering she was there, even though they'd been discussing her this entire time. "About that anyway. Just so you both know, though, neither of you are better than the other in any way, shape, or form. You're good with wand-work, rubbish at Potions, and you're both kind, brave, intelligent men. It just happened to be you that I fell in love with, Remus, but now that it's like that, it's not going to change."

"Really?" Remus asked, looking up at her with childlike eyes.

"Really," she affirmed with a smile.

"Could we all have a shag together?" Sirius asked so sincerely that Hermione couldn't help but burst out laughing. "I wouldn't mind a shag together."

"Go to bed, Sirius."

"Aye," he said. "Good night, you two. Love you."

"Love you, too, mate," Remus called. "I'm sorry - I'm sorry that Hermione loves me, not you."

Hermione blinked again, feeling like she was slightly insane, before she grabbed Remus's hand and led him up the stairs to his bedroom. On the way, she handed him a small vial.

"What's this?" he asked, drinking it before she answered.

"Something to sober you up, drunky," she said with a smile, "Just because Sirius isn't going to get laid tonight doesn't mean that you won't."

She covered her mouth, realizing that the little bit of alcohol she'd had hadn't been enough to get her drunk but _had _been enough to get her to be a bit more open.

"Score," he said happily. "Because I've got a raging hard-on right now."

"I noticed," she admitted, giggling.

"You got wet sitting in Sirius's lap," he said plainly, as he closed the door behind them, and pushed her onto the bed.

She blushed. She'd forgotten he could smell so well so soon after the full moon.

"Sorry. He was hard, too," she said. "It was a natural response."

"But you wouldn't have slept with him," he said, lifting her shirt over her head and kissing down her collar bone.

"I wouldn't cheat on you, no," she replied, as he unclasped her bra and took one of her nipples in his mouth.

"But if we weren't together?" he asked, nibbling and sucking.

"Probably," she admitted. "Unless I had a shot in hell with you, in which case I'd hold out."

He bit onto her nipple roughly, causing her to arch her back and gasp. He kissed his way down her stomach, licking her belly button.

"But he still turns you on," he said simply, as he pulled down her pants and panties, slowly kissing into the inside of her thigh, his hands spreading her out before him.

"Yes," she admitted.

"If I said I was okay with it, would you want to take him up on his offer?" he asked, as he licked closer to her core, then moved to the other thigh.

She was breathing heavily with anticipation, and the bit of veritaserum she had disallowed her the ability to think about an answer. It just came out naturally.

"No," she said. "I think he's attractive, and I'm attracted _to _him even, but I don't want anyone but you touching me."

"Why's that?" he asked, as his mouth finally connected with her swollen, wet lips.

She cried out his name, taking her hands and plunging them into his hair, pulling his head down further and thrusting her hips upward.

"Just how I am," she answered. "I've got a one-track mind, and in the love field, you're the only one there. Sex to me can be casual, but once it turns into love-making, there really isn't going back. As long as you'll have me, you're the only one I want. What we're doing, how you make me feel when you touch me - like right now - there isn't anything better."

"I agree," he said, sliding up to kiss her.

She could taste herself on his lips, and it turned her on more than she cared to admit.

"What about you?" she asked, as he pulled off his clothes and positioned himself at her entrance.

"I only want you, but I'd do anything to keep you," he said between kisses.

"I love you," she said, scratching his back. "I wish I knew what else I could do to make you believe that you're my first choice, my only choice, the only person on my mind."

"It'll just take time," he said, pushing his head forward into her. She groaned, thrusting her hips upward. "It's not that I don't believe you. It's that I've been conditioned by past experiences to not believe myself worthy of the love of anyone, let alone someone that the best person I know can't even have."

He'd sobered up, and she knew he was talking about Sirius. She looked up at him and sighed, bring her hands upward to his neck, pulling him forward for a long, gentle, searching kiss. When she pulled back, she could still see uncertainty in his eyes.

"I've had the same sort of conditioning," she admitted sadly. "Maybe we'll just have to convince one another to see ourselves how we see each other."

"You might be onto something," he said, "but enough talking for now."

"Agreed-aahh," she yelped, as he finally thrust into her, sinking into a slow, steady, gentle pace, taking the time to kiss her languidly.

She clawed at his back, feeling the agonizing ache of his slow pace, knowing he was building their orgasms slowly, so they could take their time to enjoy this sensation. She felt great. _He _felt great, moving inside of her, and she knew that she didn't want anyone or anything else.

"You're incredible," he said breathlessly, as he slightly picked up his pace, going deeper, holding for a moment, circling his hips around, and then pulling back out, leaving her anticipating his next movement.

"That's my line," she moaned, moving her hips in time with his.

When she finally felt her insides begin to tighten, she could feel his cock twitching, and Remus began to thrust a bit faster, until he brought them both to the edge, and then pushed them over.

She cried out his name, enjoying the feeling of his sweaty body collapsing on top of hers. She clutched onto him, hanging on for dear life, as he struggled to catch his breath, before pulling out, and rolling over beside her.

She rolled next to him, putting her head on his chest, snuggling up next to him. She tilted her head up to look at him, and he gave her a peck on the lips, wrapping his arms around her and rubbing her back and arm lovingly.

"That was a nice change of pace," she said, kissing his chest.

He chuckled, nodding silently in agreement. "Maybe in the future, you can visit me in my office, and we can fulfill that fantasy you had about shagging in a classroom."

"What?" she asked, alarmed, her face flushing. "How did you know about that?"

"You moaned 'Professor Lupin' in your sleep once, and you were wet," he said, chuckling at her embarrassment.

"I really need to start taking a dreamless sleep potion," she mumbled.

"Don't," he requested. "I feel like I learn just as much about you in your sleep as I do when you're awake."

"What?" she asked. "D'you stay up?"

"Lyncanthropy," he reminded her. "I can't sleep more than four hours a night for two weeks of the month."

"Oh," she said, suddenly feeling guilty. "You want me to sleep in the guest room, so I don't keep you here?"

"No," he said sternly. "You relax me. So stay."

"Okay," she agreed, smiling. "You help me relax, too."

"I know," he said cheekily, and she smiled, drifting off to sleep.


	21. Day 151

**Chapter 20: Day 151/180**

Remus was sleeping off the full moon, and Hermione was sitting in a Muggle restaurant, nerves killing her. Today was the day when she'd be meeting a young, Deatheater Severus Snape, and she was terrified. It wasn't the first time she was scared of Snape, but this time it was worse than it ever had been before.

She'd spent years of her youth worrying about whether the dark wizard was... well... _dark_ and trying to kill her best friend, but she hadn't had any forewarning when it initially happened. She had been dropped into Hogwarts with no worries, and she dealt with them as they came. Now, she'd spent the past four months wondering if she'd have to deal with Snape, who truly was on the wrong side (for the moment), and she had been building nerves, anticipating this moment. Now, it had come, and she didn't know what to make of it.

Lily, on the other hand, seemed perfectly happy with their arrangement. She and James had a long chat about Snape, and he'd been a bit cross about it, but he was almost pathetically happy just to know that Lily still wanted to be with him, so while he hadn't approved of the return of their friendship (especially since he suspected that Snape was a Deatheater), he hadn't objected either.

Without having to sneak around, Lily had finally invited Hermione to meet Snape, sure that they'd just hit it off. Secretly, Hermione thought she just wanted Snape to know that not everyone on their side would treat him like dirt.

She was worried that he'd sniff out something odd about her, that he'd connect the dots between the Order's new witch who brought down so many of his Deatheaters at once and report back to Voldemort. If Voldemort knew about her or her circumstances, it didn't bode well.

On the other hand, if she became friendly with Snape, she could chaperone his and Lily's playdates. While Hermione believed that Lily really did consider James the love of her life, she was still a bit worried that she could easily begin to build feelings for Snape and return his affections. If what she'd said was true, he was different from the boy he was at Hogwarts. And as much as Hermione hated to admit it, since she didn't particularly like Snape in her time, she could see the appeal in him.

If sensuality had a musical counterpart, it would be the pitch and quality of Snape's voice. Then, he had the whole dark and mysterious thing going on. He was also brilliant and witty. And if she was put under veritaserum, she'd even admit that he wasn't bad looking. He wasn't comparable to James or Sirius in the looks department, nor was he as charming or charismatic, but... he did have appealing qualities.

Lily clearly saw them, too, or else she wouldn't have become his friend in the first place or lied to James in order to restart said friendship.

"What's James doing?" Hermione asked, trying to kill time until Snape showed up.

"He and Sirius just got back from Auror duties. I think they're going to check in on Remus and then head off to visit his parents. They've come down with something; they're not doing too well," she replied, frowning.

"Really?" she asked. "I didn't know that."

"James only told Sirius, because he's like family, but... he hasn't wanted to worry anyone else," Lily said, her voice dropping further as she averted her eyes. "But frankly, I think it's coming to the point where he has to. Four days ago, they were a little sick, but when I saw them yesterday... it's just not good."

"Oh no," Hermione said, concern flooding her chocolate eyes. "I'm so sorry, Lily. Is there anything I can do?"

"There's nothing to be done," Lily said helplessly. "It's Dragon Pox, and the healers at Saint Mungo's have already given them what they called the 'cure,' but it's not much of a cure. It's just slowed it down."

Hermione's eyes widened, as she realized that this was probably it. The Potters were going to die. She knew they'd died before Harry was born, but she hadn't known how. That must have been why Dumbledore himself had been so insistent upon revising the cure for it for the next ten years. People in this day and age were still dying from the disease, although it seemed to be mostly immuno-compromised and elderly witches and wizards.

"How's James holding up?" Hermione asked.

"In denial," Lily said darkly.

Hermione didn't know what to say, so she stayed quiet until she saw Lily's face light up again as she looked at the door behind Hermione.

Hermione turned around, and she was caught by surprise as she saw a young, healthy-looking wizard with jet-black hair that was shoulder length and fuller than she'd expected, dark black eyes, fair but healthy skin, a lanky but sturdy figure, and weirdest of all, Muggle jeans and a black jumper. His lips were even curved into a smile when he spotted the red-headed woman across the table from Hermione.

Snape looked... he looked... _normal._ And not just normal for him. He looked _normal _by anyone's standards.

Lily waved him over, and he sat down at the table, looking curiously at Hermione.

"Hermione Miller," she said, reaching out her hand to introduce herself.

"Severus Snape," he said, a bemused smile on his face as he took her hand and shook. "Quite an uncommon given name to go with such a common surname."

"My father's a boring American accountant. My mum's the witch who's read one too many romance novels and married him," she lied easily, hoping to illicit some immediate camaraderie with Snape in the form of a similar bloodline. He _was _the half-blood prince, after all. "The marriage didn't last long."

If Lily was surprised that Hermione had introduced herself with a fake name, she didn't let it show at all, and the simple fact reinforced the fact that Lily Potter was _not _a stupid witch.

It seemed to work, as Snape cocked his eyebrow, quirked his lip, but didn't say anything else.

"I knew you two would get on well," Lily gushed excitedly.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh at Lily's enthusiasm.

"Yes, I imagine it must be exciting for you to have a single friend of yours not want to jinx me when I'm not looking," Snape said dryly. "But give it time. I'm sure this will go the way of the others soon enough."

As Lily frowned and prepared herself to admonish Snape for his bad attitude, Hermione let a giggle escape past her lips, causing both of them to look at her in surprise, although Lily's surprise registered much more openly than Snape's did.

"Sorry, sorry," she apologized, grinning. "I'm just not surprised that James and Sirius wouldn't appreciate your dry humor."

Snape gave a small quirk of the lips, and Lily looked like she had won the lottery, absolutely pleased with herself for bringing Hermione along.

"You've had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of Potter and Black?" he asked in disbelief. "You don't seem nearly - "

" - Severus," Lily warned.

"I was going to say brash, Lily," he said, although the evil smile on his face told her that was not what he was going to say at all.

"I'm quite fond of them," she admitted, "although I'm not as fond of their... _brashness_."

He lifted an eyebrow at her again, and she couldn't help but share a silent laugh with him.

"I've heard they weren't as genial to you back in your school days as they have been toward me," Hermione said. "Although I can't say that it sounds like you deserved any better."

Lily's eyes widened, and she gaped at Hermione, not believing that she would say something of that sort. Severus, on the other hand, seemed impressed that she'd give her opinion so freely and boldly.

"And you, Hermione, sound like you're speaking from experience," he said, bringing his hand lazily to his chin, tapping a long, slender digit against it. "I wonder what end you've been on."

"I think you know," she said, using her own experience at being bullied and twisting it around into a semi-believable implication that she had lived through a pain similar to Severus's and had reacted just as poorly as he had. She didn't need to be any more specific than that, as she learned from her Unspeakable training that the most authentic, most touching story to a person was one that they wove themselves from details that otherwise shouldn't be enough to draw any conclusions.

"Interesting friend you've brought, Lily," Severus said after he finished casting a long and scrutinizing gaze at Hermione. "Better than your usual company."

_Score_. She had his approval, had his interest.

"I'm going to ignore the dig at my other friends and take the compliment," she said brightly. "Mostly because I want to rub it in your face that you were wrong and I was right."

Snape attempted what Hermione assumed was supposed to be a light-hearted laugh, although it sounded more like Darth Vader commanding his troops over breakfast, and he turned to Hermione to explain. "I didn't want to meet any more of Lily's friends."

"Understandable," Hermione said, grinning.

"But I told him, I _told _him, that I knew you two would get on," Lily repeated again, turning to Snape. "Too bad she's dating someone, else I'd have tried to set you up."

Hermione nearly choked on her tea, while Severus appeared more composed. This was like the _Twilight Zone_. She never in her life had _ever _imagined that someone would try to set _anyone_ up with Snape, let alone _her_. Hermione was everything Snape hated - she was like James and Sirius. She was a Gryffindor, she was loud, she was cocky, she was well-liked, and she was front-page material for the Daily Prophet. There were even gossip columns centered around her love life. She was the shining example of all that was good in the wizarding world, and he was... the anti-hero.

Of course, Lily didn't know this, and Snape didn't either, now that she'd put on a bit of a show for him, but _still_. She couldn't believe Lily would even utter such an idea. If she told Harry and Ron about this, they'd just about die, either of disgust or of laughter. She didn't know which, but she knew it'd be one of the two, if not both.

To her surprise, Snape hadn't outright laughed at the idea of dating her either. She assumed it was because he had a better poker face than she did, because any other thought would cause her brain to explode. She tried to remind herself that Snape didn't know her as anyone other than a witch around his age, who came from a similar background, had a sense of humor, realized the same flaws in his perceived enemies that he did, was fairly attractive (she gave herself that much credit), and wasn't disgusted by him, so of course, if he was lonely enough, and wanted to try to get over Lily (or at least pass some time), it wasn't such a laughable idea to him that maybe...

She stopped her train of thought. Too weird. Far too weird.

"Too bad," Snape said passively, and Hermione tried her best to regain her composure so she didn't offend him or look bonkers. After all, he wasn't... bad...? Yeah, too odd to consider any further.

"If it was anyone but Remus..." Lily said, trailing off.

This caught Snape's attention again, and he raised a bored eyebrow again.

"You're dating Lupin?" he asked skeptically.

"I am," she answered stiffly, prepared to defend his honor to her death, because she felt as if a derogatory comment would soon follow about werewolves.

Instead, he surprised her once more by smirking and shrugging. "He's the best of the four, I suppose."

"Interesting," she blurted out, before she could help herself.

"What is?" he challenged, and she could tell she'd once again piqued his curiosity.

Hermione, against better judgment, decided to tell the truth. "I'm surprised you didn't try to out him as a werewolf to me."

Lily, once again, looked shell-shocked at what was happening at the table she was sitting at. She was completely out of her element with these two.

Snape tapped his chin with his finger again, a snake-like smile slithering across his thin lips.

"On the contrary, I think _you're _far more interesting," Snape purred quietly.

Hermione and Snape shared a smile that confused Lily and shook Hermione to her core. Despite the fact that he smiled more frequently, looked healthier, was more confident, and had even seemed to flirt with her a bit, this Snape wasn't a better version of the one she knew. He was more youthful, yes, but he was _not _better. This Snape chilled her to the core, and she didn't feel stupid for having been wary about meeting him. This Snape was... this Snape was _evil_, or as close to evil as someone she believed was fundamentally good could get. And she was honestly scared of the prospect of spending more time with him, so for the first time since her first few weeks in the past, she was glad she wouldn't be sticking around to get this opportunity.


	22. Day 152

**Chapter 21: Day 152/180**

She was awoken by the feeling of a gentle hand stroking her hair out of her face. Without even having to open her eyes, she immediately recognized the touch. She'd spent five months falling in love with that touch, his calloused hands gentle, touching her as if she was fragile, barely touching her. She smiled and opened her eyes, not at all surprised that she was met with the gentle blue eyes of Remus Lupin.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey," he replied softly. "Sorry to wake you."

"Never mind that. How are you feeling?" she mumbled, blinking through the darkness at him.

"Tired," he admitted. "But I can't sleep."

"This sounds an awful lot like the first conversation we had five months ago," she said, smiling up at him, as he continued to stroke her face.

"You're right," he realized, leaning down to kiss her lips chastely. "Except we were both wearing a bit more clothing."

"That's true," she agreed, acknowledging their state of undress.

She'd had a tiresome day. Meeting with Snape had shaken her, and she was unexpectedly grateful that Lily hadn't stuck to her word and introduced them months ago. Snape wasn't the Snape she knew, and it wasn't in a good way. She'd been unable to shake that sly smile he'd given her, his black eyes pondering possibilities she didn't even want to consider. She hoped she wouldn't have to meet with him again.

After that, Lily had taken her to the Potters', where James's parents looked substantially older and sicker than she'd remembered them to be. Mr. Potter was bedridden but refused to go the Saint Mungo's, and Mrs. Potter tried to be ever the gracious host, but she could barely function herself. Lily wasn't exaggerating when she'd said it was bad. And James did, indeed, seem to be in denial. He was playing wizard chess with his father and barely looked up when Lily walked into the bedroom and sat next to him. She stayed there, throughout the entire game, watching silently and smiling supportively. She was a strong, patient woman, something which Hermione envied her for.

Hermione had made a grocery run for Mrs. Potter with Sirius, and while he didn't seem to be as upset as James, he was still visibly affected, his demeanor lacking the usual cockiness, his attitude quieted down. Just before they returned to the Potters', Sirius had turned to her abruptly and uttered the unspoken truth of the situation - "they're dying."

Hermione, caught off-guard by the statement, and yet morbidly glad to see that Sirius was just as good at stating the things no one else wanted to at twenty as he would be in his forties, took a second to digest what he said before she nodded slowly. Sirius had taken a deep breath in, slapped a smile on his face, and walked back into the Potters' residence, uttering flattering words to Mrs. Potter and being as charming as she'd always known him to be.

After dinner (which was cooked by Sirius and Hermione, once they saw that Mrs. Potter was struggling to do it herself), James and Lily declared that they'd be staying the night in his old bedroom, and the other two friends had parted ways at the door, Sirius going back to his flat, and Hermione going back to Awry Place.

When she'd arrived, she'd gone into Remus's bedroom, saw him still soundly asleep, stripped down into her panties, and the T-shirt he'd discarded when he'd crawled into bed exhausted that morning, and fell soundly asleep.

"We can go downstairs and read if you want," she offered quietly, her head in his lap.

"I read all last night. Don't really feel like reading tonight," he said. "Go back to sleep. I didn't mean to wake you."

"I know, but I'm not going back to sleep now," she said, reaching her hand up and intertwining her hand with his, sighing loudly.

"What's wrong?" he asked her, his brows furrowing in concern.

She wanted to laugh at the question. He'd just had the moon to contend with, and he was still more worried about her. That was Remus Lupin, alright.

"The Potters are sick," she said quietly.

"I know," he said quietly. "I managed to get it out of Sirius yesterday when they came by. He didn't want to say how bad it was, but I'm left to assume it's not good."

"It's not," she confirmed. "James isn't handling it well."

"I think the World of James Potter must have been filled with only the most convenient and pleasant truths until now. He and Sirius and Peter have been the best friends I never imagined I'd have, so don't get me wrong when I say this," he said, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb, "but James has never had to deal with hardships in his life. He came to Hogwarts, known by his family name, having things others could never dream of, from his broomsticks to his invisibility cloak, and he had a natural knack for everything. He was well-liked, became Head Boy, had a throng of witches to choose from, happened to stumble across just the right one, and married her. He's had everything, which I think makes it more noble that he's fighting for our cause, because he really isn't fighting for himself, like I am or like Lily is, and he isn't really fighting for redemption like Sirius is. He's fighting because it's the right thing to do, for his friends, but... still, losing something, facing tragedy - it's unknown to him."

"That makes sense," she said. "I wonder how Harry would've turned out if he'd had a similar experience.

"Harry?" Remus questioned, hesitantly.

Hermione sighed again and shook her head. "There isn't a lot I'm not allowed to mention while I'm here, but he's one of them."

"I'll forget you said anything then," he said, bringing her hand up to his lips and kissing it. "I'm sure I'll know one day."

"You will," she said. "Probably sooner than you think, if all goes well."

"I'll keep your relationship to James' and Lily's son a secret then," he said, slyly.

Hermione laughed, shaking her head. "I don't know why I bother to try to hide anything from you anymore."

"To feign a half-decent attempt at preserving the timeline?" he asked, with a laugh.

"Something like that, I guess," she said.

"I'm not going to tell the others anything, but I've already assumed a few things to happen," he said hesitantly. "You've mentioned Sirius and I teaching, but you've never mentioned Lily or James."

"I haven't," she confirmed, sadly.

"Nor have you mentioned Peter or Marley or Fabian or Torie or Alice or Frank," he said again.

"Not all of those people are dead," she said, not elaborating. "And to be honest, I'd never heard of Fabian or Torie before coming here. I assume Fabian Prewett is a relative of Molly Weasley's though."

"Her brother, I think," he said. "I've met her once. She's not an Order member. Her husband is, though. She's too busy raising kids to join, I reckon. All the Prewetts are good."

"I figured," she said. "Molly doesn't have a speck of bad in her. She's as good as they come."

"I know someone else like that," Remus said, smiling at her.

"Me, too," she shot back. "I know several people like that, actually, one of them being the Longbottoms' boy, since I'm already giving up the pretense of not telling you who and what I know."

"Tell me about him," Remus asked curiously. "Is he like Frank or Alice?"

Hermione giggled at the question, knowing what Remus was asking. Was he quiet and meek or loud-mouthed and strong?

"When he was younger, he was the sort of boy who wondered himself what he was doing in Gryffindor," she said, giggling as she remembered a few particular memories. "He was the only person I knew to get a remembrall to remember things and then actually lose it. Among other things he forgot and lost were his pet toad, the password to the common room, and his pants once."

"Poor fellow," Remus said sympathetically. "So not like either of his parents then?"

"On the contrary," Hermione said fondly. "I can't tell you much about it, so don't ask, but he was one of two people I've ever seen go face-to-face with Voldemort and challenge him. He might be the bravest person I've ever known. It just took a few years to come through."

"He sounds like quite the lad," Remus said. "Good person to have on your side."

"Definitely," she agreed. "He took after his parents and became an Auror, but he gave it up to teach at Hogwarts. He's better suited with gentle work. Stress stresses him out."

"I don't even know how to respond to that," Remus said, shaking his head and laughing.

"I guess that was sort of the point," she said, sticking out her tongue.

"Merlin, I'm going to miss that cheeky tongue of yours," he said, squeezing her hands.

"I don't want to talk about it yet," she said, pursing her lips. "We still have some time."

"Whatever you want," he said sadly.

"I'm sorry that I'm leaving you," she muttered, sitting up, and wrapping her arms around him. "And I'll understand if you find someone else. I can't expect you to wait."

"Even if I do... give in... to my more primal instincts," he said uncomfortably, "it's only because you're impossible for me to be with. But once you come back to me, it's you who I'm going to pick."

"Don't make promises like that, Remus," she said, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I won't be there for you for twenty years. You've known me for five months. You could love someone else for twenty years after. And if you do, it'll be hard, but I'll be okay if you're happy."

"No," he shook his head. "The beast in me has mated for life, and he'll be waiting for you to return."

"Okay," she said skeptically, "but if something changes, promise me we can still go back to how things were before."

"I don't know how things were before, so I don't know how I'm supposed to promise you something like that," he said, furrowing his eyebrows at her.

"If you trust me, then just promise me," she pleaded.

"I promise, then," he said easily.

"Now, can we go back to enjoying ourselves?" she asked in a small voice. "I have a feeling we'll have a funeral to attend before long."

"I have a feeling you're right," he said. "Can we just lay here a bit? I'm feeling tired again."

"Me, too," she said, sliding back down in the bed.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back to his chest. He kissed her shoulder and neck, pulling the blankets above them.

"I like this shirt you're wearing, by the way," he teased.

"I'd hope so, since it's yours," she retorted, laughing.

"Better than that Chudley Cannons one you're fond of. Smells of another man," he commented.

"My friend Ron's," she said apologetically. "It's the most comfortable thing I own."

"I won't ask you to give it up, obviously," he said with a deep chuckle. "I just prefer that you smell like me rather than another man is all."

"Feel free to bathe me in your scent then," she joked.

"Be careful what you wish for," he whispered. "I'm weak now, but I'll be well enough to start marking my territory soon."

"Mark it all you want," she mumbled, not bothering to comment on the fact that he'd called her 'territory' instead of referring to her as a person. "I might mark you as mine, too."

She felt his hardness against her backside immediately at her words. She laughed, not knowing why she hadn't expected such a return.

She turned in his arms and kissed him, her arm wandering down to his underwear, pushing her hand inside and grasping his girth. He gasped into her mouth, and she rolled him onto his back, climbing on top of him.

"I can't," he apologized, his eyes regretfully sad.

"I know, baby," she said, kissing the tip of his nose, then kissing down to his neck and his shoulder, nibbling on his collar bone, then going down to his hard chest, sucking and licking as she went.

She looked up, saw him watching her actions with desire in his eyes, and she smiled like the cheshire cat as she slowly replaced her hand with her mouth, loving the way his mouth formed an 'O' shape and the content sigh that escaped those lips.

Yes, she was going to make him cum, and then on her way back up, she was going to make a pit stop at his shoulder to bite him, just as he'd bitten her. She knew that her bite wouldn't leave a lasting scar like his was, but it was enough to make a point and turn him on a bit.

She wasn't the only one who liked rough play, after all.


	23. Day 166

**Chapter 22: Day 166/180**

She stood under the cool November clouds surrounded by Order members, watching as James Potter cried over two caskets that held his parents, with his wife and his best friend on either side of him, forcing their own tears to remain in their eyes, hurriedly wiping away the rogue ones that escaped their bloodshot eyes so that they could focus more on the man in need. Remus and Pettigrew were near there as well, helping to pull a sobbing James away from his parents' bodies as McGonagall stepped up to a podium, preparing to speak. Apparently, she'd been very close with the Potters, moreso than Hermione could have guessed, and she had taken it upon herself to deliver a eulogy that James was too broken to deliver himself.

Hermione could see plainly that the Potters were well-respected and well-loved individuals, as evidenced by the throng of people that were here, from Ministry officials, to old Hogwarts classmates, to Order members, to others she recognized only from pictures at their house.

She wished she could bring herself to grieve along with everyone else, but as the funeral proceeded, she had made herself scarce, leaning against a tree as far from everyone as she could get, her eyes darting back and forth. The war and her work as an Unspeakable had made her paranoid, and the first thing she thought of when she'd heard that funeral proceedings would be outside and well-attended was that it would be a perfect opportunity for a Deatheater attack.

Every out-of-place sound left her looking up at the sky to see whether a Dark Mark would go up. The whole of the Order was here along with important Ministry officials. An attack would be devastating, moreso than the deaths of the wizard and witch who would be buried today.

She'd kept a careful eye on Pettigrew, knowing he had a tendency to be nervous when an attack would happen, and although he seemed generally uncomfortable with the situation, he didn't seem skittish or guilty, for once. She figured that would be a good sign, but she wasn't convinced that nothing would happen. Voldemort didn't rely only on the rat-faced bastard for information.

The only thing that comforted her was that Dumbledore was in the front row of spectators, paying full attention to McGonagall. He had better instincts than she did, in her opinion, so if he wasn't on-guard, then she tried to convince herself she shouldn't be either.

She fiddled with the Black amulet around her neck, wondering how she would know when it was time to go back. She knew an approximate time, but Percy and Frank weren't back yet, and she wasn't going to leave without him.

She heard a noise behind her, and she spun around, her wand out, sparks flying from it.

"Show yourself," she commanded.

A relaxed figure in black robes stepped out behind a tree, a smile on his face that made her shudder.

"People aren't often so guarded during funerals," Snape mused, floating over to her.

"I'm not particularly guarded," she lied easily. "I just don't see a funeral as an excuse to let my normal guard down."

He smirked at her but didn't say anything. He stopped when he was next to her and stared at the crowd. At the front, James had his head in Lily's bosom, still sobbing loudly.

"Here to see how Lily is, or here to see James be miserable?" she asked, trying her best not to let the disgust into her voice.

He regarded her with amusement, as if she'd told him a good joke, then turned back toward the funeral proceedings. His face was blank, but she could see the unwavering direction of his gaze.

"So there really isn't going to be attack then," she said, pocketing her wand and closing her eyes, visibly relaxing against the tree again.

"What sort of an attack would there be at a funeral?" he asked slyly.

She let out a low, sarcastic laugh at the question and shook her head. "None. What sort of an attack there would be on an area filled with Order of the Phoenix members is a whole other question, however. But I suppose even Voldemort isn't stupid enough to launch a direct attack against Dumbledore."

She was satisfied when Snape flinched at Voldemort's name. She half-expected him to ask something like, 'you dare speak his name?' but he didn't. He didn't bother pretending not to know what the Order of the Phoenix was either.

"Do you know what I find more interesting than anything you've said to me right now?" he asked arrogantly.

She let out the same low laugh again and turned to him, with a sweet smile on her face. "What's that, Severus?"

"I was at the Records hall in the Ministry, looking at birth certificates, and funny enough, I didn't see anyone with the surname 'Miller' born between 1950 and 1960. Nor did I see any Blacks that I didn't already know about," he said. "Curious, wouldn't you agree?"

"I guess it would depend on why you thought it was interesting," she replied, shrugging, feigning ignorance.

"The last time I saw that amulet, Bellatrix LeStrange was complaining of its refusal to listen to her commands," he continued, ignoring her. "I don't think hers was a fake, though."

She shrugged again, trying to keep her insides from squirming.

"Listen, Snape," she said, making up her mind and turning to him. "You're useful, but we both know that sense of camaraderie and acceptance you felt for a while was conditional and is fleeting now that tensions are running higher. You think you can keep her safe, but you know that things can't go too well when one of her best friends is plotting her downfall every day.

"So listen to me, even though I'm no better or worse than you are, and listen well, even if it's for no other reason than your realization that I have more information than you do. Above everything else, your loyalties are going to lie with Lily and secondly, with yourself, so I know you're not going to tell any of what you've just told me to _him_.

"You aren't capable of saving her yourself. And James isn't capable of saving her. There is only one man in this world who is on par with what she's going to be up against, and you _know _who it is. So my advice would be to go to him and do as he tells you, because he's the only one you can trust won't stab you in the back for even thinking of doing what it takes to truly help _her_."

She didn't know whether Snape thought she was a Black family member, thought she was a thief, thought she was a time-traveler, or thought she was a spy for Dumbledore or Voldemort, but it didn't really matter. She'd let him, once again, draw his own conclusions, and she hoped that they would be just incorrect enough to lead him to Dumbledore.

She felt guilty for implying that Lily could be saved, when she would wind up dead in two years' time regardless of any actions he would take. Still, her loyalties laid with preserving the timeline and the outcome of the war, so if she had to lie a bit and manipulate Snape, then she had no qualms about doing so.

"And take this, will you?" she asked, shoving a folded up piece of parchment in his hands. "If you _do _take my advice, this is how you can repay me."

Snape didn't say anything. He turned on his heel and walked away. When she turned around to see where he'd gone, all she saw was a puff of smoke signaling that he'd disapparated. _Good_. That guy gave her the creeps.

Plus, if her maths were right, this was about the time Harry would have been conceived, and she _really _didn't want Snape ruffling anyone's feathers and getting in the way of that.

She hung in the back, waiting for the proceedings to be over, until she saw Remus's head whipping around, looking for her. She couldn't hide any longer, so she made her way over to the Marauders. James looked like he'd run out of tears when she came face-to-face with him. Remus took her hand, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

She mumbled her condolences to James, who nodded weakly at her, before letting Lily pull him away to the next group. She was making sure that James's responsibility to talk to well-wishers was fulfilled before she'd take him home.

Once Lily and James were completely surrounded by the next group of people, who were friends of Mr. Potter's, Hermione looked at Sirius, before she lunged herself at him, giving him a big, warm, thorough hug. Sirius immediately wrapped his arms around her and began crying.

He'd considered Mr. and Mrs. Potter parents, and losing them had been difficult on him, too, but he didn't dare voice this, as he was too kind, too good, too protective of James. So she let him cry into her robes like he'd once let her cry into his.

"I can't believe they're gone," he whispered. "Why couldn't it have been someone from my family instead?"

She couldn't blame him for his harsh words, couldn't even think about how horrible what he'd said sounded, because she _knew _his family, and understood what he was getting at, which was that good people seemed to die more frequently than bad ones. It was a sad truth she'd pondered as much as he had, and it was the reason she had done what she had.

"Sometimes, everything sucks," she said simply, letting him cling onto her as he hid his face in her shoulder, hidden from the world by her veil of thick hair. "There isn't any way around it."

"I feel like an ass, crying to you right now, when you actually went out and changed things for the better," he whispered once he'd finally started to settle down.

"You should feel like an ass for a lot of things, but this isn't one of them," she teased, causing him to let out a brief, hollow laugh, before he finally loosened his grip on her.

He held her at arms' length and smiled, then let her go, turned to Remus, and gave him a soul-crunching albeit shorter hug as well.

The threesome, turned foursome when joined by an appropriately saddened Marlene, spent a few minutes talking about the Potter, in which Hermione mostly listened, as she didn't have the stories to tell that someone like Sirius did. Eventually, they were rounded up by Lily, who announced in annoyance that some 'stupid after-party' (which Hermione assumed to be a reception) was going to be held at the Potters' house. She, with a pointed look at Sirius in particular, announced that she wouldn't mind if something wound up shortening the event so that she could take James home.

That something wound up being the drinks being mysteriously spiked, leading to even the most respectable of wizards getting distastefully drunk and being dragged out by angry wives. Interestingly enough, Dumbledore had ample cups of the punch and seemed none-the-different except for an extra twinkle in his eye. Still, he seemed to get the idea and left as well.

Lily gave everyone long, hard hugs as she took it upon herself to lock and ward the house after everyone had moved into the front yard, mumbling under her breath that it was weird to be doing this to someone else's house, then teared up when she realized that it was her house now as well.

Lily and James had unleashed tears anew and had apparated away without another word. Hermione and Remus went back to Awry, leaving Sirius and Marlene to comfort each other, Peter having disappeared somewhere before he even got to the reception.

"I hate funerals," she said, pulling the hood of her cloak over her head as she shivered in the cold November air.

"I noticed you disappeared during the proceedings," he said quietly.

"I felt out of place with all of you. I met the Potters three times," she said, sighing. "I felt inappropriate being there."

"You're never out of place with us," Remus said, taking her hand as they followed the path to the house. "Besides, your presence comforted Sirius, and that isn't the easiest of tasks. It's hard to comfort him when he doesn't show that he's upset most of the time. He's bad at showing his true feelings. He has a tendency to cover them up."

"I'm surprised it's James and Sirius who are the closest in the group," Hermione admitted. "I mean, I know you're all best friends, but it's James and Sirius who _are _the closest, right?"

"They don't mean to be, and I don't think they'd do anything for each other they wouldn't do for me or Peter, but what you're saying isn't wholly untrue, no," he replied. "Why are you surprised?"

"Because I think you and Sirius are the most similar," she said with a chuckle. "You and Sirius hide your emotions while James blurts out whatever he's thinking, and Peter's only emotion seems to be fear."

Remus smiled and shook his head. "See, you'll never understand the four of us. We all have similarities and differences. Sirius and James tend to be the louder ones of the group, while Peter and I are more reserved. James and I work through difficult problems, while Peter and Sirius tend to get bored and move on. And the list goes on. I think James and Sirius probably have the most similarities."

"It seems like Peter only shares your bad traits," she said with a snigger.

Remus shrugged, appearing uncomfortable with the dig, and they continued walking in silence until they reached the front door.

"Do you want a cup of tea, or do you want to head straight to bed?" he asked.

"Cup of tea to calm my nerves, if you don't mind," she answered, as he opened the door for her. "Round the fire, even. It's chilly out there."

"Isn't it?" said a tired voice, the owner of which walked into the hallway. "I get winter in South America and come back just in time to get winter here, too. Bad timing."

Her eyes widened as she stared at the man in front of her. His curly red hair was grown out a bit like Ron's was, except with more waves to it, blond stubbles covering his face, and he looked oddly tan, healthy, _strong_. He didn't look like the same person, but there he was, in the flesh, after three months of nightmares and nightsweats. There he was, finally back.

"Are you just going to stare at me?" he asked, a crooked smile on his face.

"Oh Percy!" she gasped, lunging into his arms. "Where have you been? I've missed you so much! They had to stop me from coming after you nearly every day."

"I have so much to tell you," he replied with a laugh. "And I missed you, too, love. You have _no _idea how much."

He pulled away from the hug and caressed her cold cheek with his warm hand, before he turned to Remus and smiled politely at him.

"Hello again, Remus," he said.

"Percy," Remus said with a gentle smile that looked a bit forced to Hermione.

"Come on, then!" she exclaimed. "Tell me all about it while I make tea."

He laughed at her and nodded, putting his arm around her possessively and leading her into the kitchen. "Funny story actually. You'll never guess what I inadvertedly helped to invent."

"What?" she asked excitedly.

"Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans," he said, laughing.

"I thought those have been around since the 50s," she stated, looking at him.

"As Bertie Bott's Beans," he said, laughing again. "But now, they're in _every _flavor."

She giggled along with him, ready to hear all about his adventures.


	24. Day 167

**Chapter 23: Day 167/180**

Five hours later, Percy had finally finished the story of what happened in Brazil that kept him for three additional months. They'd been successful in locating over a dozen Deatheater camps all over South America thanks to intelligence received from various sources, the majority of which were in remote parts of Argentina. They'd found eight there, three in Bolivia, two in Peru, and were having a bit of tough luck locating the camps in Brazil, since their person-of-interest had conveniently turned up dead the night before they got there.

Percy had paused here in his story when he and Hermione got off-track, discussing the small-cell structure of Deatheater camps in South America. She likened it to Muggle extremist groups. Remus had sat there in silence, listening to the two discussing it.

Then Percy resumed his story, the tale of how he and Frank had slummed it in South America, running out of potions to disguise themselves because of the longer-than-expected time they were spending there. Four days after they'd been unable to find anyone who knew anything in Brazil, urged on by the fact that they were tired, homesick, and their charms weren't as effective in exact duplication of disguises as their potions were, they were about ready to head home, when they caught a lucky break.

They happened to hear a Muggle tour guide, of all people, telling a group about what they would be experiencing in their upcoming trek through the rain forest, and he mentioned something about an underground cave unnatural to the terrain and how they would see it but couldn't traverse it as it was releasing toxic gas from deeper layers of the earth. He'd said that even animals stayed away from the area, although the trees were mostly unimpacted by the 'toxic' gas and the crevice which led to said cave.

Percy and Frank took the unexpected tip and had searched the area. Sure enough, a sweep of the area revealed several forms of magic on the opening. They tried to brainstorm how to proceed or whether to owl Dumbledore to ask for directives. After all, in the other areas, they'd had an 'in' and a bit of background information. Their job was to find and confirm Deatheater camps and send the intel back to Dumbledore, so he could put together plans and teams to infiltrate. It wasn't Frank and Percy's job to do any combat.

Still, they hadn't been able to confirm the camp, so they decided to keep watch on the area and check comings and goings then go back home. As luck would have it, they were caught.

A young Deatheater by the name of Eduardo da Silva had found them and welcomed them with open arms, asking where they'd been, if they'd run into trouble 'plugging the leak' in Rio. He then apologized that 'Rodrigues' wasn't there to greet them, that he'd been the victim of an internal conflict which led to his death. The young Brazilian talked enough for all three of them, providing them with enough information to piece together the fact that two people, who were new recruits, hadn't even met with the higher-ups yet in the 'base ring,' as he called it, and had been sent to off someone leaking information back to Dumbledore.

Apparently, the old man who'd been killed had taken out the two inexperienced Deatheaters with him. And as luck had it, an intoxicated argument led to the demise of the only person who knew what the two wizards who'd been killed looked like, and it was a golden opportunity for Percy and Frank to infiltrate the ranks of a Deatheater cell in South America to see exactly how the operation was run - i.e. how independent/dependent they were to Voldemort/'the base ring,' how a cell was started, how it recruited members/locals, how it stayed hidden, what its purpose was, etc.

Frank and Percy had taken it, and they'd learned invaluable information about it, which they'd passed back to Dumbledore. Although Percy seemed upbeat about the entire thing, telling her about other adventures he'd had in the process, including meeting Bertie Bott, who was vacationing there, and all the tanning he was able to do, he skimmed right over the torture and mass killings of Muggles, and she could see that he'd done things he regretted for the benefit of a greater number of people.

Hermione didn't question him further about it. She'd merely hugged him and whispered that she, too, had learned about the consequences of saving people, and that sacrifices were sometimes made, however much they led to sleepless nights.

At some point, Remus had fallen asleep on Hermione, and she positioned him on the couch to be more comfortable, covering him up, before she went back to her conversation with Percy.

Percy and Frank would have stayed longer, but it had all gone wrong very quickly. Their charm wore off a bit before they had a chance to be alone and reapply it, and a 'base ring' member was visiting from Europe to give them directives. He'd instantly recognized Frank, and in a rage, he shot killing curses everywhere. He'd taken out nearly the whole of the cell before Frank and Percy had subdued him, nearly losing their own lives in the process. The wizard in their custody wound up killing himself. Frank and Percy made the bloody scene look as if it was an inside squabble, and they got away, coming back as quickly as they could so as to not compromise the data they had.

The last thing they wanted to do was to spook the other camps into moving or changing protocol.

They'd gotten back yesterday, and after debriefing the entire day with Dumbledore, they'd been put in a magically-stimulated coma while their wounds healed. When Percy had woken up, he said Frank was already gone, presumably to Alice (and to impregnate her, probably, although Hermione was a tad queasy that she knew that), and he'd come straight back.

Hermione then caught Percy up with what had happened while he was gone, about Snape, about Pettigrew, about the witch who was raped because of their shift in the timeline, about the Potters, about Lily and James. Percy had poked fun at her, asking why she wasn't at Godric's Hollow to make sure that the deed was being performed. When she'd contorted her face and glared at him, he made it a point to remind her that a mission was a mission.

She rolled her eyes, saying that she was relatively sure Sirius had just worded the mission in the most disgusting way possible and that all she'd done was be a glorified relationship counselor. All she'd done was force them to communicate so that they wouldn't split up.

As the sun was starting to come up, Percy lowered his voice even further, not wanting to wake Remus, and had asked her if she'd missed him. She replied that she, of course, had. He then asked her if she'd thought on what he said to her before she left.

Hermione said she had and that, as much as she hated herself for it, wasn't ever going to be able to return his feelings. He asked her why, and when she examined his face, she saw that he wasn't heart-broken - just curious. So she answered him honestly.

She told him she could never fall in love with another Weasley. Although it wasn't how she saw all of them all the time, the fact of the matter was that she was always going to categorize the Weasleys as being either Ron or Ron's family. So while she viewed Percy as his own man 99.9% of the time and even forgot he was related sometimes because of how different their personalities were, .1% of the time, she was going to view him as Ron's brother. She told him that .1% was as good as it was going to get, and that it was a vast improvement over viewing him as Ron's brother _all _the time, like she did with some of the other brothers, like Bill and Charlie.

She told him that Ron was her first love, her best friend, and would always be the number one Weasley in her eyes, even though she loved them all. He'd then asked her if she was still in love with Ron, and she laughed and shook her head, saying that she didn't think she'd ever be in-love with him either but that it wouldn't change the fact that she once was.

He nodded slowly, and then a slow smile crept onto his lips, and he laughed heartily. He called her crazy, told her she barely made sense, but said it was alright, because it would probably be better this way, anyway, because he'd always felt a bit wary of his family's reaction upon finding out they were sleeping together.

He had the decency to look like he felt bad about it and had the intelligence to say that it wasn't because he was embarrassed, but because there was a certain amount of stigma associated with sleeping with the woman his brother had been engaged to.

He then asked her what they would say when they went back, since they'd be arriving back in September, only a few days apart from when they'd departed, and she shrugged, saying they still had a bit of time to figure everything out. She wasn't going to leave until she had confirmation of Lily's pregnancy, and even with wizarding tests, that would take a week or two if they conceived that night.

Percy pointed out how weird it was to talk about Harry's conception, and she laughed, glad that she was _finally _able to share her nuttiness with someone else. She also told him about Snape hitting on her, and he looked just as disgusted as she had felt during the entire ordeal.

Having Percy back was great.

When Remus had started to stir from his sleep, Hermione habitually started to run her fingers through his sandy hair, and Percy, as perceptive as ever, pointed out that she seemed awfully comfortable with him. He asked her how it had been, staying alone in the house with him.

She admitted to brewing him Wolfsbane, something which made Percy slap his palm to his forehead. She apologized, sheepishly, and then quickly changed the subject to the rest of the potions stock she had built for the Order.

She was halfway through a rant about streamlining Order supply operations when Percy's chest started to silently heave, laughter bubbling in his throat, until he finally burst out laughing fully.

"What?" she asked, glaring at him.

"I don't care about any of the logistics of it, Hermione," he said, as if it was obvious. "I'm asking you if you're intimate with Lupin."

"Oh," she said uncomfortably, and looked away.

"And that lack-of-an-answer answers _that_ question," he teased.

Hermione was glad to see a smile on his face, no sign of depression or heartbreak or sadness anywhere on his face. He seemed genuinely okay, and she was glad for it, because she'd been expecting him to either die or be in horrible shape, as morbid as it sounded, and he was neither. He was perfectly cheerful. In fact, he was _more _cheerful than she'd ever known him to be.

She didn't know why, but she suspected it had something to do with the elation of being home, having survived the mission, and having almost gotten away with changing the timeline, something which had only been successful once before them. She supposed that was plenty reason to feel happy and not sweat the small things. Just the thought made her smile, despite being awake for over twenty-four hours, the majority of which she'd spent mourning.

"So what happens when we go back?" he asked. "With you two, I mean."

"No idea," she said. "I'm so stressed, Perce, that honestly, I don't even want to think about it anymore. He obviously won't have stayed abstinent over the years, but I'm stupidly hoping he won't be in a relationship when we get back and that he'll be able to have feelings for me once more."

"I don't think that's stupid," Percy said softly.

"D'you know if he's dating Tonks?" she asked quietly, still brushing his hair aside.

"I don't think so - not in this timeline," he said.

She felt the momentary pang of guilt, at having chosen to save him, at the consequence of him not marrying Tonks and having Teddy.

"Don't mourn a loss he doesn't even know he's had," Percy said, immediately recognizing her train of thought.

"I guess it'd be useless to," she said, looking down at the sleeping face of her lover.

"From what I've worked out, talking to Frank and thinking back to conversations we've had with people back in our time, it seems like the people most affected almost had a form of amnesia. As the timeline stabilizes and finalizes, they 'remember' the alterations and forget the old timeline," Percy said.

"I've gotten that impression as well," she said. "That's why I'm stupidly hoping Remus will want to date me when we get back. I'm thinking that maybe because of the amnesia-like effect, our relationship will be as fresh for him as it will be for me."

"I don't think he's ever forgotten about it completely," Percy said quietly.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Since the war, every time I've been around you all, he's always paid special attention to you. At that final meeting with McGonagall and Black, he looked excited, and at that breakfast the morning we left, he looked at you with adoration I hadn't seen before," Percy said. "I was a bit confused as to why, but I understand now. I think that's why he apologized for what happened. I think he still loves you, but he's worried that you'll feel pressured to return his affections once you return, even though he'll have aged, and you won't have."

"I don't care about that," Hermione immediately dismissed.

"Don't be so hasty to say that," Percy warned. "He's a different person, our Lupin, from this Lupin."

Hermione shook her head. "If he'll have me, I want him. Although I feel selfish saying it."

"Don't feel selfish," Percy said. "You're the least selfish person I know."

"Why do people keep saying that?" she whined, huffing out.

"Because it's true," she heard a sleepy voice say.

Hermione looked down at Remus, who was starting to open his eyes.

"Good morning," he mumbled, staring up at her with a smile.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" she asked. "I got a bit too loud."

"Both of you should get some sleep," Remus said, yawning as he sat up.

"Good idea," Percy said, standing up.

He walked over to Hermione, gave her a kiss on the cheek, then shook hands with Remus.

"Good night," Percy said, walking through the door and climbing up the stairs.

"You need sleep, too," Remus said, standing up and tugging her up with his hand.

"I'm surprised _you _don't want to talk to me," she said, following him upstairs gratefully.

Remus chuckled and shook his head. "No better way to get answers to questions you have and ease your jealousy all at once than eavesdropping."

"I _knew _it," she exclaimed.

He laughed, pulling her into his bedroom and undressing her for a long overdue rest.


	25. Day 180

**Chapter 24: Day 180/180**

"I'm _pregnant_," Lily exclaimed, her emerald eyes glowing with joy, her face flushed, her husband sporting the most excited, most terrified look that anyone had ever seen.

"Congratulations!" Marlene exclaimed, immediately scooping her friend into her arms and bouncing up and down with her.

"Good on you, mate," Sirius said, bringing his arms around James and giving him a manlier version of what Lily was getting from Marlene.

"How far along are you?" Remus asked, once he'd exchanged his congratulations with the couple.

"Fourteen days," Lily replied proudly, her hand placed firmly on her belly, which didn't have a hint of anything going on underneath it.

"How can you tell so early?" Marlene asked, looking down at Lily's belly as if little Harry would be able to tell her when he wasn't even far enough along to be anything more than a bundling of cells.

"Well," Lily said, blushing. "When I tried to take my Mrs. Peppers' Patented Pregnancy Prevention Potion yesterday, Mrs. Peppers yelled at me from the bottle. She wasn't very nice about it either. Told me I was dumb for trying to prevent pregnancy after the fact."

Hermione laughed. Sometimes, things in the magical world still made her giggle - like all-knowing pictures of people on potions bottles and the ridiculous addiction to alliterations that everyone seemed to possess. She was just glad that the woman hadn't ratted Hermione out. Lily's last batch of the elixir had been swapped out for a placebo by an unknown woman who had happened to sneak into the bathroom while Lily went to buy tea, even though she could have _sworn _she'd just bought some.

Hermione eyed Percy and winked at him. She had a bit of fun doing this ridiculous but important mission that she'd been sent on. But now, it was time to go. This was the announcement she and Percy had been waiting for before they were able to leave, and judging by the way Remus's hand was fiercely digging into hers, he knew this as well.

Hermione was just stuck on what to tell people like Lily and James and Marlene, who'd become such good friends but still had no idea where she had come from. Explaining to someone that you had to go back home was substantially more difficult when you weren't allowed to tell them to where and why and that contact was impossible. Plus, Lily seemed to be set on being a bridesmaid at her and Remus's wedding.

Hermione had woken up to a bouquet of white lilies with a teal and brown polka-dotted ribbon wrapped around the stem once. Hermione had questioned everyone staying the night at headquarters about it, Lily had averted her eyes and mumbled something about good, fun color combinations.

Remus had nearly choked when he realized what it was, and he had to be resuscitated by James, who whispered something about Lily _surely _not forcing them into marriage. He laughed nervously when he said this.

After lunch, James said his goodbyes to everyone and walked toward the door in a weird sort of way that reminded her of Luna Lovegood. Lily, as she said her goodbyes, explained that James wanted to visit his parents' graves and tell them the good news. Lily teared up a bit as she said this, but she wiped her eyes and slapped a smile back onto her face as she went to follow her husband out.

Marley and Peter left as well, having to go on Order business, and Hermione and Percy were left with Sirius and Remus.

"So what was your mission?" Sirius asked, when he noticed Hermione nervously fiddling with the Black amulet around her neck, for the first time pulling it out of her robes and into plain site.

Percy snorted into his cup of tea, but disguised it with a cough.

"I was a glorified babysitter for Lily and James, making sure they both stayed alive and _talked _to each other enough so that they'd be happy enough to be... _intimate_. And I may or may not have swapped Lily's contraceptive elixir with a fake to make sure she got pregnant," Hermione said, her cheeks tinged with pink.

Sirius and Remus nearly died laughing, and Hermione couldn't escape the deja vu she felt. Especially when she heard Percy join them.

"So the baby they're about to have; he or she's important, huh?" Sirius asked, once he finally caught his breath, leaning onto Remus for support.

"You have no idea," Hermione said, smiling at the thought of her other best friend awaiting her return back home.

"I'm not surprised," Sirius said, pride in his eyes. "James told me he'd make me Godfather of their first one, you know?"

"After you got drunk and complained for an hour that you'd never have kids," Remus pointed out.

Sirius nudged him roughly, although a smile remained on his face. "Point is that no kid could turn out bad with me as a Godfather."

Hermione raised her cup of tea, and they toasted to Sirius' s statement, because it was true.

The amulet on her neck suddenly glowed a bright pink color, and she couldn't help but feel as if it was nudging them along to get going. Everyone else in the room seemed to notice it, and they fell into an awkward silence.

"What do we tell the others?" Hermione asked Percy, frowning.

"No idea," Percy replied with a shrug.

They'd talked about it a few times since his return, but they'd been unable to come up with anything of their own. They'd visited with Dumbledore and McGonagall, after the Order meeting earlier this week, and they'd left it up to them. Dumbledore then said his goodbye, just in case he was 'gone on business' when they had to depart.

Hermione was suspiciously aware of the fact that Dumbledore seemed to know when they'd be leaving, as his 'trip' was only three days, and this was the second day of it. Hermione had nearly lost her wits again, bursting into tears as she hugged him goodbye.

She then said goodbye to McGonagall, who also seemed to have glassy eyes as she hugged Hermione. McGonagall stopped by the dungeons to check on Hermione's progress every now and then, and they'd taken to eating lunch together. In the process, McGonagall's fondness of Hermione had grown, and she was barely trying to masque the fact that she was upset that the young witch would be leaving soon.

"Let us handle it," Sirius said after a long silence.

Hermione's eyes widened at the responsibility they had agreed to take on, and she looked at Remus, who nodded firmly, even though he looked absolutely exhausted. The full moon was tonight, and it was the last time he'd have the benefits of a Wolfsbane Potion for a while.

"Thank you," Percy said warmly, and he stood up, shaking hands firmly with Sirius, a look of understanding passing between them.

"Let me give you a box of things to take with you," Sirius said, leading Percy out of the room.

"Subtle," Hermione whispered, as her eyes remained glued on the table.

She saw Remus stand up through her eyelashes, and he walked to the other side, sitting next to her. Wordlessly, he enveloped her in his arms. She snaked her arms around his back and sighed.

"You just _had _to be so sweet, didn't you?" she quietly joked. "_Had _to make me fall for you."

"I could say the same to you," he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

They stayed in silence for a few moments longer, cherishing each other's warmth, well-aware that this would be the last time they were in each other's arms like this, and both unwilling to voice the fears they had for her return.

Hermione heard a cough behind them, and they separated slowly. She looked into Remus's tired eyes, and she wished she could stay with him for the full moon at least, but the amulet around her neck was Sirius's, and it was glowing brighter and brighter, telling her it was time to go. Remus leaned in regardless of the fact that they had an audience and gave her a long, tender kiss.

When they broke apart, he gave her another brief hug before he stood up, giving her a hand. She took it and looked at Sirius and Percy.

"I've got your trunk," Percy said, patting the inside pocket of his robes.

"Alright," she said.

Sirius walked over to her and gave her a big, goofy grin.

"Sorry for being such a huge cock to you at first," he said with a laugh.

Hermione beamed at him and said, "you've already apologized to me for that."

"No, I haven't," he said with an amused twinkle in his eyes. "I keep track of every apology I ever make, and I'm sure I haven't apologized to you for this properly yet."

She laughed heartily at him. So he _did _realize he hadn't. She just shrugged and shook her head. "Future you apologized before I even got here. I just hadn't known for what."

"Smart man, he is - I mean - I am," Sirius said, and he wrapped his arms around her in a bearhug. "I'm going to miss you, sweetums."

"I'm going to miss you, too. _This _you, I mean," she said with a laugh. "This is weird."

"No kidding," he said, and he let her go.

Hermione looked at the boys in front of her, anxious to see the men they would turn into soon enough, and she pulled the chain around her neck just like Sirius had taught her and flicked it toward Percy. It coiled around his wrist and glowed.

There were not dramatic, frenzied, or passionate last minute words exchanged. There wasn't a tearful goodbye. There was just an encouraging smile, a grip on her wrist from Percy, and they were off, with a feeble "see you soon!" from Sirius, who cracked up laughing, because he must have thought himself hilarious.


	26. Day Plus One

**Chapter 25: Day 180/180 +1**

When the spinning stopped, Hermione once again wound up tumbling toward the floor clumsily, and she was once again caught and balanced by Percy. The feeling of nausea also returned.

When she looked up, the first person she caught sight of was Sirius, who was grinning at her like a madman. She tried to shoot him a dirty look, but it turned into a grin when she saw the expression his face.

"This method of transportation is _not _very accommodating to people who are prone to motion sickness," she muttered, as the amulet lifted over her head and flew into Sirius's waiting hands.

"Sorry, love," he said, and he opened his arms for her.

"'Sokay," she replied, hugging him.

His shoulders were broader, his hair longer, but other than that, there was no difference. He still had the same muscle tone, the same smell, the same firm grip on her. She sighed a breath of relief without even realizing it.

When he released her, she looked up and realized they were at Hogwarts, in the classroom she'd used as her Potions lab. It was void now of the simmering, bubbling cauldrons that she remembered, but it was a welcome sight nonetheless. She saw Percy surrounded by familiar red hair, and she heard Fred Weasley comment on how _tan _he was, George chipping in that _he'd _never been able to get tanned - just burned - and they immediately started poking and prodding him, trying to find the secret source of his tanning power.

She was grateful for the smaller audience than the sendoff, as she felt tired and queasy from the journey. The next set of arms to wrap around her was Ron.

"I'm glad you're alright," he mumbled.

"Did you have any doubts?" she retorted.

He released her, and they shared a grin, as he moved out of the way so Harry and Ginny could have their turns.

"I have so much to tell you about your parents," Hermione said, bursting with energy.

Harry looked just as excited as she was, and Hermione looked around the room, spotting another familiar face in the crowd - a man who had the title of youngest ever Hogwarts professor, taking over Sprout's old post at just twenty-one, with two years of Auror experience under his belt.

"Neville, I have _so _much to tell you about your parents, too," she called. "Your mum, I swear on my life, is the coolest person I've _ever _met, possibly the coolest to have ever existed."

Neville blushed, although he had a grin on his face that mirrored Harry's.

"I'll tell both of you all about it tomorrow," she promised.

"I have those pictures you wanted, too," Percy called, from the beyond the crowd of Weasleys.

"Pictures?" Harry asked, excitedly. "You remembered!"

Hermione nodded, giving her friend a kiss on the cheek before she turned to the next person in line to hug her.

It was McGonagall. The woman congratulated her on a job well done, pride pouring out of her words, and she slipped something into Hermione's pocket. Hermione wondered what it was but kept the thought to herself, as she decided that McGonagall's silent passing of the note meant that it was something better left to later.

The final person in her line was the gentle, kind head of Gryffindor, his sandy hair streaked with grey, wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, his skin a bit paler than she remembered it, his shoulders a bit broader as well, but the smile, the expression on his face was the same.

"Remus," she whispered, nudging Sirius out of the way, so she could get to him.

"Welcome back, Hermione," he said kindly.

She slowly lifted her hands up and wrapped them around his middle. He returned her embrace, and she noticed that his arms still had the same definition in them they had before, and she wondered how she'd never noticed that he was in good shape before. She cuddled into his chest, noticing that he now smelled of the Hogwarts library instead of the forest smell he'd had before from the Forest of Awry. It was still a pleasant, comforting scent, because it was mixed with him.

She wanted to ask him what would happen between them now, but she couldn't, not with a crowd of people around them. She looked up and saw that the focus seemed to be on Percy, who had immediately launched into the story of how he'd helped create Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

Hermione looked to see if anyone was looking at them, and when she noticed that no one was (especially not Sirius, who was pointedly _not _looking at them), she took Remus's hand and quickly led him out of the classroom. She looked around, not knowing where the best place to talk would be. She'd have said what she needed to say right there if she wasn't wary of someone coming out to find them. And by someone, she meant Ron, who could only be distracted by Sirius for so long

"Well, _Moony_, where's the nearest secret passage or room?" she teased.

He grinned and led her around the corner, where they stood in front of a portrait of a wizard who immediately looked irate upon seeing them.

"Oh no, not _you_," the wizard said, pointing an accusatory finger at Remus. "I still remember _you_ and your horrible little friends."

"Sorry," Remus said, as he pointed his wand at the painting.

A jet of fire shot into the painting, setting the barn in the background on fire.

"You better fix it," the wizard, who'd jumped into the portrait adjacent to his, warned angrily.

"I will," Remus promised, then turned to Hermione with a sheepish grin. "We forgot once. Or, I should say _Sirius _forgot once. Poor man slept in the field for a week."

Hermione watched in amazement as the barn burned down to reveal a cloud in the background, in the shape of a button. Remus tapped it, and the portrait swung open to reveal what looked like it had once been a Professor's office.

Remus held the portrait open for her, and Hermione walked through. Before he'd even shut it, Remus repaired the barn for the wizard, who was still shouting about having to rearrange his furniture.

As Hermione admired the room, lined with bookshelves, painted a dark slate grey color, Remus sat on the desk, watching her with a smile after he discarded his cloak.

"Whose office was this?" she asked, walking to one of the bookcases. She thought it was a waste to leave this many books here, never to be read again, and as she scanned the titles, she saw that they were predominantly ones over astronomy, some Muggle and some magic.

"No idea," Remus answered. "It was already abandoned when we found it in our sixth year."

"I wonder if McGonagall knows," she said, running her hands along the spines of the books.

"You'd be better off asking Binns," he suggested.

She turned back toward Remus and swallowed the lump that was in her throat as she walked over to him.

She brought her hand out and cupped his cheek, glad to see that he didn't coil away. His gaze was unwavering, his dark blue eyes never leaving hers. She let her hand move down to his smooth, shaven neck.

"You've gotten better at shaving," she commented. "You used to always forget about your neck."

He merely grinned at her.

She took her other hand and laid it on his shoulder, and she moved both her hands down to his biceps, feeling them through his jumper. His arms felt a bit bigger now, on further inspection. She moved back up and went to his chest. She was surprised that his breathing was as even as it was, as he used to always get excited just at her touch, but she supposed that he was more mature now, more experienced, better controlled.

Hermione's hands continued to move down, until she got to the edge of his jumper. She knew her face was turning red, but she didn't stop there. She moved her hands underneath, feeling his warm skin.

"Hermione," he warned, his voice deep, as he grabbed her wrists.

She looked up at him, trying to discard the hurt from her eyes.

He pursed his lips. "You should be careful with what you're doing," he urged gently, as he hesitantly let go of her wrists.

She nodded, letting her hands continue up his stomach. He wasn't as well-defined here anymore. He was still long and lean, though, and as her hands moved upward, she trailed her hands over the scars he had.

"This one's new," she said, stopping and frowning at a particularly long one across his right pectoral muscle.

"It's from the final battle," he said darkly.

"Oh," she said simply.

She had some of those, too.

She let her hands drop, and she moved them back to his neck, snaking her arms around his head, pulling him toward her. She tangled her fingers in his hair and smiled, meeting his gentle gaze.

"I've missed you," he admitted quietly, his hands still digging into the table he was sitting on, although their bodies were now close.

She didn't patronize him by saying that she hadn't been gone that long. Yes, he'd known her for ten years, but things were different. She was still itching to find out exactly when he had known everything about their past, how his old memories had been replaced with new ones, and what he'd been up to in the twenty years since they'd said goodbye, but she didn't want to ask any of that now.

It really wasn't important, although a small part of her nagged at her that she'd inevitably be jealous of every witch he'd been with since her, although her rational side reminded her that he'd seen her nearly marry Ron, sleep with two other Weasleys, and have a brief relationship with Oliver bloody Wood, all without saying a word to discourage her.

"I'm sorry I had to leave," she apologized. "But I meant what I said all those years ago. If you'll have me, I still want you."

"I'm changed," he reminded her. "A few new scars aren't it."

She shook her head sadly. She released his neck, brought her hands down to cover his, pried them up off the wood of the desk, and forced them on her waist. She then returned her hands to their original position around his neck.

"I know you have," she said. "The first thing I noticed was that you smell of the library instead of the woods. The second thing I noticed was that you're more patient now, quieter, more mature. The third thing I noticed was that your body's matured a bit, too."

"I've gotten older," he said simply.

She giggled at him. "Silly man. Of course you have. But I was talking about your frame. It's bigger. Your arms are bigger. And if I'm to be honest, I've been thinking the entire time of what you could use that added strength for."

She saw a disbelieving but pleased smile cross his lips, and he pulled her closer.

She let him.

"I love you," she said, her eyes hopeful.

"And I never stopped loving you," he said, leaning his head down so that his lips were hovering over hers. "And 'Wolfy' feels the same."

He captured her lips, and she felt his body relax into hers. She mirrored his actions. She was home, finally, and she was glad that all her worries had been in vain.


	27. Epilogue: Day Plus Six

**Author's Note: **Last chapter. I decided to post it all for you in celebration of my 22nd birthday!**  
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**Epilogue: Day 180/180 +6**

It was the beginning of the term for Hogwarts students, and with pride in her voice, and an apology for asking her this favor so soon after Hermione's return, McGonagall had asked Hermione to talk to the seventh years about their N.E. and the effects they had on job placement, since she preferred to have recent graduates there as motivation. Hermione had acquiesced immediately, even though she thought it was a bit odd to be asked, since she wouldn't be able to say much at all about her work as an Unspeakable. Really, she thought the only reason she was speaking at their Career Day was that so many of the other speakers never actually finished.

Her only comforting moment was that her presentation would be followed by Fred Weasley, who would talk to the students about starting a business. He'd brought along _props_. So she doubted anyone would be interested in her job once a Weasley twin took over.

She was mostly right, although one clever Ravenclaw girl who Hermione had vaguely remembered from her own days at Hogwarts, had caught onto Hermione's hints and had asked her if her boring job at the Ministry happened to be in the Department of Mysteries.

Remus, sitting at the teachers' table in the Great Hall, had merely smiled at her when she turned to him for a way out.

Once the secret had been out, Hermione was flooded with questions, most of which she couldn't answer, until Fred had come to her rescue, riding into the Great Hall gallantly atop a giant pink Pygmy Puff the size of a Hippogriff, that spat out Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products.

All-in-all, it hadn't been a disaster, and all the presenters were asked to stay for dinner. Ron and Harry, who'd had the most popular presentation about becoming Aurors, hadn't been able to pass up the opportunity for a Hogwarts feast, and were sitting at the far end of the Gryffindor table with Neville and Ginny. Hermione had flashed Remus and Sirius an apologetic smile and joined her school friends.

It was interesting for Hermione to see the students avoid the group like the plague. She'd wondered why, until a particularly scrawny third-year Gryffindor sat down too close to them by mistake, blanched when he realized who they were, and then ran out of the Great Hall nearly in tears.

A Gryffindor prefect (she could tell by the badge), walked over to them bowed apologetically and explained - "I apologize on behalf of Smidgeon. It's a little overwhelming to have war heroes in our presence, and moreso to be sitting at the same table as Professor Longbottom. He was just a bit intimidated and embarrassed by his mistake."

Hermione and Harry exchanged amused glances at the fact that anyone would be nervous to sit around _Neville_. Even after years of being on the front page of the Prophet, being recognized by everyone everywhere, and having people be nervous around them, it was still a bit surreal sometimes.

Ron, oblivious to everything, waved the prefect off.

"Feels weirder for us to have this much space," Ron said, taking a gulp from his goblet. "Budge over, you lot. We're all just Gryffindors, and we ain't old or anything."

"Ron," Hermione whispered, giggling. "Neville's their _professor_."

"I don't mind, Hermione," Neville said quietly, and she could see a smile on his face.

The Gryffindors who'd been avoiding them all started to fill in around them, and some even joined in on their conversation. As she looked at Neville's smile, she realized that he probably felt awkward at the looks of admiration he was getting, and it clicked for her that the students' intimidation was probably a barrier to their learning, and Neville was grateful to humanize himself.

"Leaving already, Hermione?" Ginny asked when Hermione stood.

"No," she answered, smiling at her friends. "Going to sit with Remus and Sirius."

"Go on, then," Ron said, giving her an encouraging pat on the back. "Tell them we'll be by to say goodbye before we leave."

"I will," she promised, beaming at her friends before heading over to the Head Table.

Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Ginny, like the old days, had spent the days following her return glued together, as Hermione told them _everything_. And she meant _everything_. Well, she wasn't graphic about it, but she didn't hide anything from them. They'd been through too much together, and she owed them the truth.

To their credit, they hadn't batted an eyelash when she told them of her relationship with Remus. Harry had only inquired as to whether it would be continuing in their time. She blushed and nodded, and that was that.

Ron was more stuck on the fact that Snape had flirted with her, and he brought it up constantly, sticking out his tongue in disgust and contorting his face, until Ginny finally had enough and hit him over the head with a turkey leg.

Hermione had given Harry the photo of his parents and Sirius at their wedding, and she caught him staring at it throughout various portions of her tale, smiling. He'd later hung it, and some of the other photos she'd brought back, in his and Ginny's living room in Godric's Hollow, where they had taken up residence following their wedding.

Hermione, between the attention that was showered on her by the Weasleys, and her work obligations, had only had one night with Remus since she'd returned, and she craved for more. She still had so much she wanted to know and so much she didn't know if she wanted to know. At some point, she'd just mentally told herself that she was going to let him tell her whatever he wanted to about his private life in the gap that she wasn't there and not ask for anything more.

Hermione walked down the length of the Head Table, when a silky voice caught her attention.

"Miss Granger," Snape called.

Hermione stopped her trek toward the other end where Sirius and Remus were sitting, and turned to Snape.

"Yes, Professor?" she asked formally, nodding her head at him.

He looked like he'd wanted to say something, and when she searched his black eyes, she saw gratitude in them. Even letting himself show that much emotion was thanks enough, she reckoned, and she smiled warmly at him.

He nodded, and off she went, in an infinitely better mood, to see Remus and Sirius. She walked around the other side of the table and slid into the conveniently placed chair between them. She hugged them both and relayed the message from Ron about them saying goodbye.

"So," she said with a grin. "I have a question for you two."

"Yes, love?" Sirius asked, exchanging an amused smile with Remus.

"Whatever happened to Marlene?" she asked, her voice neutral, in case the answer was bad.

To her surprise, Remus and Sirius both laughed.

"Well, after... _you know_... Marley was devastated, since she and Lils were best mates, and she blamed me," Sirius said, waving it off as if it wasn't a big deal, even though Hermione knew it was.

"Once the charges were formally dropped," Remus continued, with a sly grin on his face, "she popped back into our lives. She never did rejoin the Order. Felt too awkward after having left the way she did, but she still visits with us from time-to-time. And by 'us,' I mean _Sirius._"

"Ooooooh," Hermione called, winking obnoxiously at Sirius, who didn't seem to mind the teasing at all.

"And Crimsley?" Hermione asked.

Their expressions became somber. Sirius looked away, and Remus met her eye contact and shook his head.

"Sorry," she said quietly.

"There isn't a need for you to apologize for it," Remus said, taking her hand underneath the table and squeezing it.

"I guess you're right," she said. "I wouldn't mind seeing Marlene though."

"I'll arrange it," Sirius said with a grin. "She's a curse-breaker, so it might be a while since she's back in town. You should ask Bill Weasley about it. She's partnered with him."

"Really?" Hermione asked, smiling. "Small world."

"My turn to ask a question," Sirius said, slyly. "I saw McGonagall slip you a letter when you got back. Have you gotten a chance to read it?"

Hermione smiled, tears springing to her eyes.

"Are you alright, love?" Sirius asked, immediately regretting the question.

"Yes," she replied, and she was comforted when Remus squeezed her hand.

"It was from Dumbledore. He told me how proud he was of me, how brave and strong and intelligent I am, and how it was an honor to watch me, Harry, and Ron grow into such outstanding people, but how proud he was, in particular, of me for being brave enough to risk my own lives to save all of yours.

"He mentioned a bit about my old mentor, who taught me how to actually go about changing time, and it made me think that he knew about timelines a lot more than he'd ever mentioned before. He then explained to me exactly _where _the change in the timeline occurred.

"In both the former timeline _and _the current one, I was slated to go back into time, but in the original one, I'd gone after Percy, pulled him out, and he was with me the entire time at Awry. The change occurred when McGonagall sent me the message in the Pensieve, telling me not to go after Percy. By not going after him, he and Frank were able to infiltrate South American Deatheater camps, moving along our cause and causing us to be able to shut down Voldemort's operations overseas, and that trickled down and wound up saving countless lives, including Marlene's, I suppose, Fred's, yours, and several others.

"Because Percy wasn't there, I was also able to get closer to Remus, and that's how _we _were able to become... 'we,'" she explained.

"There's never been a more brilliant wizard," Sirius said, in awe. "How did he know all of that?"

"I have a feeling Percy and I weren't doing this alone," Hermione said, tears welling up in her eyes. "He and Edward collaborated to help us. He was _always _there for me, Dumbledore. I should have realized it when I first met him in the past, and he knew my full name, without anyone having told it to him. That Dumbledore, he really was the greatest wizard to have ever lived."

"To Dumbledore," Sirius said loudly, raising his goblet.

"To Dumbledore," Hermione echoed, and when she looked down the table, she saw that the entire Head Table, Snape included, had raised their goblets as well, in salute to the late Headmaster.

Before Hermione knew what was happening, the entire Great Hall had raised their glasses and said the same thing.

After dinner, once everyone had said their goodbyes, Hermione walked hand-in-hand with Remus, curious to see what instructor quarters looked like, since she'd never been in them before. She was surprised to find his quarters, in the tower next to the Gryffindor's, the size of a small house, elegantly decorated, with red and gold accents everywhere to signify his status as head of house.

He'd commented that these were bigger than his old ones and that there were certain _privileges _associated with being the head of a house. She was just nervous being here, but she was ready to spend the weekend with him - or rather, the night, and then the weekend following the mandatory monthly brunch at the Burrow where Molly had insisted upon every Weasley (and honorary Weasley) attending, following the tragedies of the war.

Hermione and Remus had made love in the old office the night she returned, and it had been gentle, soft, and powerful, and she could tell he had changed a bit, become more patient, become more experienced, and he had better stamina as well.

Now, though, Hermione could see the wolf peeking out behind his eyes, and she was ready to see the possessive, strong side of him again. She was ready to learn all about this Remus from scratch.

"How long did you have to go before someone started brewing Wolfsbane for you again, by the way?" she asked, as they took off their cloaks and placed them on a coatrack near the entrance to his quarters.

"Interesting you ask that," he said, "because I didn't have to. The following month, I was delivered a package with the Wolfsbane Potion in it. And it continued to be delivered to me until I started teaching and Severus started to brew it for me."

"Really?" Hermione asked, a smile coming onto her face.

"You wouldn't happen to know anything of that, would you?" he asked, eyeing her suspiciously. "Because none of us were good enough in Potions to be capable of something like that."

She shrugged, knowing that the smile on her face gave her away. At the Potters' funeral, she'd slipped Snape the ingredient list and instructions to brew Wolfsbane, and he'd been able to piece together what she wanted him to do with it. She'd had something to do with Snape turning, she was proud to say. She knew it had been for Lily, but Hermione had been the one who pushed him to Dumbledore, and in gratitude toward her, he'd done what she hadn't actually asked him to do.

"What am I going to do with you?" he asked softly, pulling her toward him, his lips brushing over hers as if in accident, before he moved down to her shoulder, pushing her robe to the side, and placing kisses on the spot he had marked her so many years ago.

Hermione clutched his back and grinded against him.

"Let Wolfy have his way with me?" she recommended, a smile on her face.

"If you insist," he said in a low growl, and he threw her over his shoulder with a surprising amount of strength, and carried her off to his bedroom, her giggles echoing down the winding staircase.

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**Author's Note**: And there you have it, folks. A nice, happy ending, just like I like my stories with Remus to end. I love him too much to have anything bad happen to him or anyone he cares about. And you guys didn't know it, but Percy's survival was always written in the timeline. As for Sirius, I always liked him and Marlene together.

Edit: There is now officially a sequel called Timelines! Go check it out! :D


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